NINE
by Chewyness
Summary: Raised in the depths of the ROOT organization, a boy called Nine is charged with the mission to become the next Hokage of the Leaf. AU. No pairings.
1. chapter 01: the beginning

**Disclaimer:** Naruto does not belong to me.

**Summary:** Raised in the depths of the ROOT organization, a boy called Nine is charged with the mission to become the next Hokage of the Leaf. AU. No pairings.

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><p><strong>NINE<strong>

Chapter 01: Enter: Uzumaki Naruto

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><p><em>11 years ago, aftermath of the Nine-Tails attack. . .<em>

Uchiha Fugaku listened as patiently and quietly as possible out of his waning respect for the aged Hokage sitting before him. Flanking the old man on his left and right were his teammates, two out of the three elders of Konohagakure. The fact that the last of the elders, Danzo, was absent from their current assembly was but a small comfort in the face of the accusation laid before the Uchiha Clan.

"So," Fugaku said slowly, "You've come to my home in the wake of a disaster and the death of the Fourth to instigate my clan's involvement in the Nine-Tails attack?"

Beside him, he felt Mikoto tense.

The Hokage neither flinched nor responded, taking his time in exhaling the smoke he had breathed in from his pipe. "We've only come to confirm the facts, Fugaku."

"Uchiha Madara." Fugaku drew the name out on his tongue in a strange blend of distaste, disgust, and fear. "You finger him as the culprit in the recent Nine-Tails attack?"

"It's the last bit of information that the Fourth has left for the village," the Hokage confirmed.

"And you believe this?" Fugaku demanded, "By his age alone, that man should not be capable of causing such disasters."

"Yet, the Fourth's toad convoy swears the information on its honour," Utatane Koharu murmured lowly.

"Our question is simple, Uchiha," Mitokado Homura said with an appraising stare, "Do you, or any member of your clan, support Uchiha Madara's antagonistic views on the village?"

Fugaku bit back a snarl, his anger suddenly spiking. The question was entirely rhetorical; those elders would not believe him even if he spoke the truth and denied his clan's involvement in the recent tragedy. But if he said nothing, his silence would be regarded as one borne of guilt, and the Uchiha would be judged on the spot.

Before he could formulate the proper words to voice, however, Mikoto stepped in.

"Hokage-sama," she said. Her voice was loud, strong and rang with sincerity; if anyone's voice could get through the thick skulls of the elders of Konoha, it was hers. "We, the Uchiha, have lost many men, women, and children in the attack as well. We stood by the Fourth's side against the Nine-Tails."

The Hokage blew out another puff of smoke. "And if you are accused of putting on a performance to trick the village even further?"

"No madman is worth the lives of our clansmen. We drove out Uchiha Madara from the clan and the village for that very reason ourselves," Mikoto said viciously, keeping her eyes trained only on the Hokage. "Please, Hokage-sama. Though we are an arrogant clan, our love for this village runs as deeply as any others'. I'm sure the Fourth was aware of this as well. Why else should he deem it imperative to send an envoy even in the wake of his death?"

Fugaku bit down on the smile that threatened to break his neutral expression. This woman was a truly amazing woman. No man could not feel honoured to be the chosen husband of Uchiha Mikoto.

After a long and heavy silence, relief twisted the Hokage's face.

"Sarutobi!" Koharu cried, realizing the smile's implications.

"Shush, Koharu," the Hokage admonished, "I believe in the Uchiha's innocence." He fixed her a stern look that soon shifted to settle on Homura as well. "So did the fourth. Doubting their word means to doubt the word of Namikaze Minato."

"Then…?" Mikoto prompted hopefully.

"We've only come to confirm the facts, Mikoto," the Hokage smiled, repeating his previous words. "And facts seem to imply that the Nine-Tails attack was an independent action of Uchiha Madara. Your clan is guiltless."

"I've always known you to be soft, Hiruzen," came a cold voice from the doorway, "But not to be so gullible."

Fugaku tensed at the sound of that voice, feeling their hard-earn victory teeter dangerously.

"Danzo," the Third said quietly, turning around to gaze at the crippled form, "I was under the impression that you would not be joining us."

"I could not trust you to correctly judge the situation," Danzo said curtly. He fixed his narrow-eyed gaze on Fugaku; it was returned with double the venom. Danzo snorted softly, and turned his attention back to the Third. "The Uchiha lies."

"They are innocent," the Third said firmly, "You are the only one amongst us that still doubt what the Fourth has vouched."

"The Fourth is, indirectly, your student. He shares your weak mentality." Danzo shook his head, and seemed to take a moment to glance between Koharu and Homura. A second later, Fugaku caught the briefest flicker of annoyance on the man's expression, likely due to finding no remaining suspicion in the other two elders that was strong enough to help back his accusations.

Fugaku sent a silent thanks t the late Fourth. The name and word of Namikaze Minato was a frighteningly terrible force; full of charisma and natural talent, he had had a presence that made one stand to attention and obey. For that man, even the proud Uchiha had been willing to lay down their lives. Swaying the opinions of Konoha elders, in comparison, was likely easy work for the Fourth. Even from beyond the grave.

"Fine," Danzo said. The look his eyes was not defeat, and the Third seemed to catch it as well, as Fugaku saw the man's back going taut in alarm. And Danzo did not disappoint: "Then I want the Nine-Tails child."

Utatane Koharu's voice was like a whiplash. "Danzo!"

"I will train the monster to resist the Sharingan's influence," Danzo continued, undeterred. "Under the current standard at the Academy, he will grow to be weak. He will be unable to control the Nine-Tails on his own, nevertheless be capable of defending himself against any stray Uchiha's efforts to take control of the beast's chakra for themselves." A deliberate pause. "Like Uchiha Madara."

Mikoto's hand covered one of Fugaku's shaking fists while giving him a minute shake of her head, encouraging him to remain silent. It was wiser to allow the Hokage to defend the clan for now. Danzo would not let any outbursts slide without repercussions. With no small amount of effort, Fugaku drew in a quiet breath through his nose and prayed for patience.

"You've gone too far, Danzo," the Third warned him lowly.

"I speak the truth," Danzo said fiercely, "Meet my humble request, and I will put my suspicions of the Uchiha to rest."

Fugaku allowed him a brief moment to close his eyes, opening his fist to twist his palm up to meet his wife's. Her fingers entwined with his and gave him a reassuring squeeze when, after a long and pained argument back and forth, the Third gave into Danzo's demand for the sake of upholding Konoha's internal peace.

Danzo left the Uchiha compound with a cold, pleased smile, and the son of Namikaze Minato was quietly forgotten by the rest of Konohagakure.

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><p><em>9 years ago. . .<em>

His first word was 'shinobi'. His second, 'mission'. Third was likely 'Leaf', closely followed by 'Danzo-sama'.

A flimsy blanket was all that separated his body from the wooden bottom of his crib. If he cried, he was ignored. If he was quiet, someone spoke to him. He never saw the same person standing over his crib twice.

He made it a habit to escape his crib and room as quietly as his pudgy arms and legs would allow, because every time he did, he would be met with an old man with scars on his chin who would give him a nod of approval, and that made him feel like he existed. His mastery over walking was delayed due to the fact that crawling made less noise, and he had learned quickly that the ability to be (as) silent (as possible) was a good thing. Somewhere along the line, he realized that there was a right and wrong way to go about interacting with his toys so that his toys wouldn't make him bleed and cause him pain.

No one referred to him by a name. It never occurred to him to ask for one.

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><p><em>7 years ago. . .<em>

The woman that lay bleeding to death at his feet had tried to kill him. He'd taken a kunai to the back of his head, the blow strong enough to splinter past his skull. He felt that if he closed his eyes, he could still feel the tip of the blade buried against the mesh of bone and brain matter. He felt that he could feel himself die a second time.

But the death obviously hadn't been a permanent thing, as it was not _he _who lay dying on the cold concrete floor.

After having been jerked away from death by poisonous red chakra, he'd taken to slitting the woman's stomach open while she'd been caught in a mixture of surprise and horror.

"The Nine-Tails." The woman laughed around the blood that was pooling in her mouth. If the boy were to be honest, it'd sounded much closer to a gurgle than laughter. "You. The jinchuuriki. Should have known."

He didn't respond, simply bending down so that he can squat comfortably by her head.

"Your last lesson, brat," she rasped, "I'm going to tell you how to make a body unidentifiable after you kill a man."

The boy nodded, listened, and waited for her to finish dying so that he could practice what he'd been taught on her body.

She had gone by the name of Kaede. She had been his teacher for two years, the closest thing he may have had to a mother. She had taught him how to read and write, and had coached him in the proper ways to throw a kunai. And now, she had taught him how to turn a body into something little more than a sack of flesh and bone and blood as well as reinforce a principle that ROOT had been hinting at all along.

Attachment to another human being was a pointless endeavour. They were a fleeting thing. Transient. Easily severed. The only attachments a shinobi needed was their loyalty to their village and an unwavering commitment their missions.

"Do you understand?" Danzo asked him a week later.

"Yes sir," the boy said.

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><p><em>6 years ago. . .<em>

Rolling a cloth over the blade of the bloodied kunai, a boy replaced the weapon into his back pouch. Then, without missing a beat, he seated himself next to the body to systematically eliminate the targets identity.

It was an easy enough procedure to remember. He could feel himself slip into the dangerous state of meditative trance as he worked (_use the hilt of the kunai to turn the facial features into mush, extract the teeth with a blunted blade while taking extra care to erase the presence of any semblance of an identifying bite from the gums, smash the hands and feet into bloody pulps to prevent fingerprinting_). It took a degree of conscious effort to remember to be careful, to keep his instincts sharp so that he can remain wary of the possibility of any spying eyes hiding in the shadows. He knew this was a test of some sort, to let him graduate into the state of a useful asset from tool in-training. He wasn't entirely sure as to _why _the task of killing a man was the test though; killing was by far easier than isolation training.

Contrary to outsiders' beliefs, Danzo rarely endorsed physical abuse as a means of inducing emotional deadening in his tools. Pain was tolerable. One grew considerable immunity to the aches and cuts and breaks on their physical body with enough exposure. In contrast, every time that the boy (_he was nameless because he was a weapon; he had to be ready to adopt any identity that may be required of him_) experienced ROOT's special brand of psychological conditioning, he could always feel something disappear from inside him. He felt the numbness eat away at the traits that made him human and _weak_ until he could feel nothing more than a hollow ache deep within his chest.

Despite this, even his young mind could appreciate the fact that he had a certain advantage over the others. As he'd been trained and raised in the ways of ROOT ever since he could walk and talk and remember, he didn't possess the full-range of emotions that the conditioning was designed to suppress. He hadn't been needed to be retrained into adopting Danzo's philosophy because Danzo was all he had ever known. Compared to some of his colleagues, who had been trained as older children, young adults, or adults, he'd never writhed under the dark and the silence (_the room where the conditioning took place robbed one of all five senses_) to the point of near insanity. No, the most he'd ever felt was discomfort.

Finished with his work, he double-checked the area for any prints or any other leads that may lead the trail to him. Or worse, to ROOT. Upon finding nothing, he left the apartment complex by the front door. No one gave him a second glance; after all, he was only five.

"Good work," Danzo said when the boy finished his report. He gave the boy an assessing look. "And your status?"

"Unchanged," the boy reported faithfully, honestly.

Killing a man was entirely overrated, the boy mused later while sharpening his kunai. The target had been an up and coming serial killer, but that hadn't changed the fact that he'd been nothing more than a civilian. There had been no challenge. More importantly, the act of killing had left him plagued with neither guilt nor fear. All that mattered was that the target's death had been for the good of Konoha. The target had _had _to die.

Two days later, the boy tailed his next target to a ramen shop called Ichiraku. He listened to the target talk amiably about his family and how the boy resembled the target's grandson over the course of their meals. He left with the target side-by-side, using the mark's large, sweaty palm on his shoulder as a way in which he could lead the man into a secluded alley and slit his throat open.

And even then, even when he was staring down at the shocked, empty eyes of a once-living man, nothing changed inside him.

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><p><em>4 years ago. . .<em>

The infirmary was his third home of sort, the first and second being the open training grounds and his room, respectively. He blinked sluggishly while testing his reflexes and joints. There were no broken bones, just a few bruises, but even those were already being healed.

It had been a full three months since his last visit here. It wasn't a bad personal record. Not that these records amounted to anything; he'd taken a kunai to the lung only days after he had been discharged from the infirmary the last time around. But a wound to that degree was but a paper cut to him by now — as long as he avoided wounding anything that would cause instant death (such as decapitation), he would heal. He would be forever useful to Danzo. Being not entirely human had its perks.

With a rub to his forehead, he sat up to inspect the room. He was the only inhabitant of a room meant for four, meaning he hadn't been brought here to be treated for his injuries alone. He wasn't surprised. Settling himself back into the bed, he allowed himself to float into a semi-tranquil state of meditation while he waited.

He would turn seven in a couple of weeks. The way his body size and capabilities kept changing by the months was a source of stress to him. While he appreciated gaining muscle, weight, and height, it made training all the more strenuous. The manoeuvres that he had developed through trials of sweat and literal blood depended all too entirely on a small frame. Speed was a given when one was steering a small body, but what was even more crucial was the actual size itself — being small allowed him to slip through the crevices of his opponents' defences all that easier.

The way that non-ROOT shinobi were hardwired to underestimate children also helped. In fact, his size had been what had lent him his first successful assassination of another shinobi, back when he had been six. He remembered the statistics of his target — hair colour, eye colour, stature, any abilities worth mentioning — but he couldn't remember the man's face, voice, or anything that would set the target apart as anything but a target. But he supposed that it was for the best that he did not remember such trivialities.

What roused him out of his idle thoughts was the soft sound of an opening door. Behind it stood Danzo, and the boy sat back up and straightened his spine to allow the only person that would ever matter in his world assess his wounds. Or the lack thereof, in his case.

A curt nod was all that he received when Danzo finished his silent scrutiny. With a jerk of his head, Danzo spoke only one word: "Come."

The place to which he'd been lead was the largest room within ROOT headquarters. Though he supposed that calling it a 'room' was a misnomer in itself; it was nothing more than a gaping space made of concrete. It often doubled as the most favourable place train in-doors, simply due to its size. This had been the place where the boy had digested the basics of taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu. It had been the place that he had shed his first drop of blood. This had been the place where Kaede had died by his hand. And right now, it was the place where Danzo had chosen to house some fifteen to twenty children.

They were most likely orphans, the boy mused. In the aftermath of the Nine-Tails attack, there had been a surplus of orphans; no one would miss these children.

The boy glanced up at Danzo with, not curiosity, but a request for clarification and orders. For the words that would inform him of his purpose here.

"You will weed out the useless from the useable," Danzo said at last. He swept his gaze over the children briefly before refocusing on the boy. "Eliminate the useless."

_Eliminate_. A pretty word for the simple act of killing off the useless.

"Yes sir," said the boy. It wasn't a difficult assignment; killing was easy.

Danzo inclined his head in a way of a nod before turning away from the children entirely. "Finish the task by tonight. Their training starts tomorrow at dawn."

"Yes sir," the boy repeated.

At the end, only seven of the children survived the screening process. They, plus the boy, became the first members of ROOT's child program. And later, after the children had undergone rudimentary conditioning and were numbered off (for convenience), the boy, too, received a number (a name) — Nine.

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><p><em>1 year ago. . .<em>

It was a rule in ROOT: the useless must be eliminated. There was no room for weakness here. They were the foundation that supported the great tree that was Konoha; a point of imperfection among their ranks would poison the rest of the village.

'_Death is preferable to being useless.'_

It was one of the first things that Nine had learned.

"Nine," said Eight, his voice hoarse. Under Danzo's watchful eyes, Nine knew that the dying boy before him could not say all that he wanted to say. Not without bringing risk to Nine. The clear knowledge that Eight would not do anything to endanger Nine's position, even while he lay broken, useless and pleading for death with his eyes, twisted at something inside him.

He wasn't sure what that 'something' could be. It could be the first stirrings of emotion, or it could be something entirely somatic in origin. There was really no way to tell.

_Kill me_, Eight begged silently. _Kill me. I am useless to you now._

_Eliminate the useless_, his training told him fiercely.

Behind him, the remaining four children (_Nine's tools_) stood motionless and neutral as Nine drove a chakra-enhanced fist through Eight's skull, killing him swiftly without pain.

Something — something small, too small to be noticeable at present — changed.

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><p><em>Present day<em>_. . ._

"Eleven years," Sarutobi Hiruzen said tiredly. Placing the head of his pipe on its ash trash, he stapled his fingers together. "You kept him hidden for eleven years, and you wish to return him to Konoha now?"

Shimura Danzo leaned back into the chair and curled his hands tighter around the cane that he kept as a barrier between him and the Third Hokage.

"He has always been with Konoha," Danzo returned levelly. "He's been serving it as he's always meant to serve it."

"At what cost?" Sarutobi said with a shake of his head. "Just his entire childhood sacrificed."

"The childhood of a shinobi are short," Danzo snorted. He raised and dropped his cane against the floor of the Hokage's office, letting the deafening _clank _ring between him and the Third. It was only when his old rival returned his stare that he added, "I did not come here to argue over our differences, Hiruzen."

"No," Sarutobi agreed. With a sigh, he leaned back into his chair. "What is it that you want, then? To make him Genin? Chuunin?"

Danzo shook his head. "No. I wish for him to enrol at the Academy with his cohort class. Age eleven, set for possible graduation next year."

The old Hokage hid his surprise well. If it weren't for the telltale twitch around the eyes, and the pregnant silence that had swooped down to fill the space between them, Danzo may have doubted the fact that his words had been the _last _thing that Sarutobi had expected to hear.

"Why?" Sarutobi asked. His gaze was sharp, bearing down on Danzo like a physical presence. "You've likely trained the boy into a highly efficient shinobi by now. Why have him bother with the Academy?"

"He will not be attending the Academy for its lacking curriculum," Danzo said disdainfully, "This will be the final stage of his training."

"Which is?"

"Human interaction."

Sarutobi lifted the pipe back to his mouth and took a long drag. Danzo was familiar with the man enough to recognize the movement to be a stalling tactic: it allowed Sarutobi more time to think while simultaneously putting pressure on his conversation partner. Danzo kept his eyes trained on the other man and kept his body absolutely relaxed, refusing to be affected by such elementary psychological tricks.

"I am not so optimistic to expect a complete, or straight, answer," Sarutobi spoke at last. "But it is still my duty as Hokage to ask, and to know. Likewise, it is your duty to _me_, your Hokage, to answer."

_His _Hokage. Danzo fought not to scoff. It wasn't entirely successful, as his next words carried the undertone of mockery, "That it is. Then ask, my Hokage."

Letting the sarcasm slide, Sarutobi kept their eyes locked and blew out a lungful of smoke. "His nonexistence in the eyes of the world is a weapon in itself. As I'm sure you already know, all students who enrol into the Academy have a public file that most of the shinobi population can access." When Sarutobi paused, Danzo nodded to signal that he was listening. The Hokage continued, "You, yourself, have implied that he has nothing to gain in terms of shinobi training from the Academy. Finally, lessons on human interaction can be garnered elsewhere in a less conspicuous manner."

"Get to the point."

Another drag of the pipe, another exhale. Sarutobi tapped the pipe against the edge of the ash tray with deceptive mildness. "Tell me, Danzo, how much did the fact that his cohort class contain an unusual number of children from the major clans of Konoha factor into this move?"

Danzo shook his head in feigned amusement. "Not as much as you may wish to believe. However, I do admit that a proficiency in interacting with members of the clans is one criteria of his training."

"Do you wish to use him as a conduit in recruiting more children to your organization?"

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Danzo's lungs. "You've grown more paranoid over the years, Hiruzen."

"Only out of necessity, Danzo," Sarutobi returned pleasantly. The words, '_only because I am dealing with you_', were left unsaid.

"No, you fool," Danzo scoffed softly, purposely lacing his voice with faint mirth, "I've no shortage of supporters from the clans even without using such crude ploys."

To the Third's credit, the man didn't even seem ruffled by Danzo's admission. The extent of his reaction was simply an amused tilt at the lips. "Crude, you say?"

"Crude," Danzo confirmed. He lifted his chin toward the Third in a blatant issue of a challenge. "Ask it, Sarutobi. What you really want to know."

"Alright," Sarutobi said. He leaned back in his chair. "What do _you_ gain from this?"

Danzo let his lips twist into a parody of a smile, a borderline smirk. He let the silence settle between them for a second time, during which he thought. He thought about twisting his answer into one that would come out so barbed and cryptic that even the Hokage would find hard-pressed to decipher. It would certainly be characteristic of him to do so in Sarutobi's eyes; it was the expected type of answer. And then there was reality: no matter his answer, Sarutobi Hirzuen would meet his request.

Only a fool drunk on petty pride would refuse to allow the son of Namikaze Minato to return to the sun-kissed side of Konoha.

But then this was a special case, he supposed. There was absolutely no detriment in sharing a portion of the truth with his old rival. The truth was always more potent than the most thought-out lies, and often had the interesting effect of catalyzing future events to one's advantage.

With that in mind, what he said was this: "I gain little. I am doing this to avoid a larger loss."

Sarutobi raised an eyebrow, and gestured Danzo to continue.

"He is his father's son," Danzo said as a way of explanation, "Charismatic. A genius. I can keep him perhaps three years longer before he starts becoming a disease that will begin killing the village's roots. He needs a wider world in which he can thrive."

Then there was the topic of the boy's burden: the Nine-Tails. A beast of that destructive power could not be chained to _anyone _for very long. As a creature borne of human emotions and negativity, keeping it docile and controlled was no easy feat. While Danzo had no doubt in his mind that he could have the boy eliminated should he wake up as dangerous as his demon tenant one day, Danzo had to grudgingly admit that he didn't necessarily wantto. What he had moulded out of Namikaze's spawn was a work of art. A genius piece of weaponry in human flesh. It would be a shame to just kill the boy before he had accomplished anything worth mentioning.

And to keep the boy human, Danzo was going to take advantage of a powerful human weakness: the tendency to desire, seek out, and forge bonds. Even if the roots of Konoha were too small and stifling for the boy to remain chained to, the entirety of Konoha was not. And while ROOT shinobi were, as a general rule, trained to put little value in bonds, Namikaze's son was a special case. A weakness _had _to be created to drive a dividing wedge between the boy's human mind and demonic inheritance.

There was an added bonus to this long-term plan as well. If the boy truly proved himself capable of carrying out his mission to completion, Sarutobi's empire would be peeled apart and put to waste by the seams. The Leaf that Sarutobi had built on his weak-minded philosophies would burn, and a new Leaf would rise from its ashes. And this new village would be stronger, sturdier, and _perfect_. His old rival wouldn't see the effects until he was too weak and too old to stop it; Danzo wouldn't have to even lift a finger.

"I have terms," Sarutobi said at length.

"Name them."

* * *

><p>The sound of his cane hitting the floor rang deafeningly loud as Danzo moved through the hallways of the headquarters of ROOT. The echoes of the rhythmic <em>clank, clank, clank <em>was almost palpable. But that was to be expected; these walls were always silent. True shinobi did not make unnecessary noise, even when they remained sheathed and unused, and the operatives of ROOT were the best of them all.

After making his way to a specific room at a leisurely pace, he pushed the door to the children's room open with little ceremony.

"Seven," Danzo called quietly. "Where is Nine?"

"Outside. He should be with Two," the sole member of the room responded. "Should I retrieve him?"

"No," Danzo said shortly, turning to leave the children's room as swiftly as his crippled body would allow.

As of date, there were only five children employed as useable assets in ROOT. Propelled by the success that he had seen in Nine's development, the training regime that the boy had undergone had become the foundation of ROOT's child program. Disappointingly, no other had been found to be capable of matching, nevertheless surpass, Nine. The program was currently in its fifth year, but the prototype continued to outshine its successors.

But Danzo had been neither surprised nor disappointed by such results. The boy was the child of _that _Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina, after all. He had come equipped with the genes of two superb ninja on top of receiving the training that Danzo had applied. The result, therefore, could not be anything but spectacular.

Danzo closed his eyes briefly as he neared the door that would lead him into an outdoor training area.

It had been eleven years since the Nine-Tails attack. Eleven years since the alleged assault on Konoha by the _independent _actions of Uchiha Madara, as reported by a toad envoy of the Fourth. Danzo held his reservations about the accuracy of such information, but not even he, one of the three elders of Konoha, could casually dismiss the last words of Namikaze Minato. Unsurprisingly, neither the other elders nor the Fire Daimyo's council had raised their hands against the Uchiha after the Hokage had declared Namikaze's words as truth: that the Uchiha clan was innocent. Without allies to help him argue against that claim, as well as having given his word to let the matter rest, Danzo had been forced to let the subject go. On his bad days, he wished he hadn't.

United by the existence of a common enemy, the Uchiha had aspired to bridge any past slights done by their clansmen over the years. Their clan was gradually reaccepted into Konoha, and though their notorious arrogance remained unchanged, they were often viewed as the most loyal clan of Konohagakure.

Danzo snorted quietly at the thought; he did not believe the Uchiha to remain faithful to Konoha for long. They may have dodged the bullet on account of the Nine-Tails attack, but sooner or later, one of them would reveal the clan as threats to the village. All that was required, then, was for Danzo to be patient. He'd wait until the Uchiha slipped up, and then would step in to sever them from the village. Of course, this meant that he would not obtain the Sharingan until much later, but that was no more than a personal ambition of his. As it did not affect his village as a whole, he did not entirely mind putting that particular desire on hiatus.

After all, he'd gained something of equal — or greater — value, eleven years ago: Namikaze Minato's son. The Nine-Tails child.

Danzo had made it a point to keep the boy out of public view as much as his influence had allowed. Unsurprisingly, it hadn't been entirely difficult. As the people of Konoha did not enjoy the memory of the Nine-Tails' assault on their village, they had been all too willing to overlook the discrepancy of lacking a jinchuuriki amongst their populace. Perhaps they preferred it that way.

Instead, Sarutobi, Danzo, and the other two elders had agreed to stage a small show for the other shinobi villages. In the place of a jinchuuriki, they had worked to start rumours within both the civilian and shinobi populations which claimed that the Nine-Tails had been sealed away in a specially designed seal-scroll.

Normally, it would have been utterly ridiculous to claim that the demon could be subdued through the strength of paper and pen. But Namikaze Minato had been nothing short of a genius, and it was altogether too easy to believe that if anyone was capable of sealing the Nine-Tails away without a human sacrifice, it would have been he.

That had been about the length that Sarutobi had wished to go with the rumour. Danzo had taken it a step further, carefully spreading an additional layer of information to a select number of ears. It was to reveal the location of the Nine-Tails seal-scroll: under the protection of the Hokage and two teams of elite ANBU in the deepest room of the Hokage Tower. As the number of leaks within Konoha's information system was at an atrocious number, having such information floating around would all but guarantee the other nations' belief in their little show.

He'd still been diligent, of course. Any break in their system of lies would most likely reveal the existence of a Nine-Tails jinchuuriki, and the element of surprise would be lost should Konoha ever need to employ the boy during a time of war. Danzo had only relaxed when a shinobi of Kumogakure had been caught and tried for trying to break into the famed Room of the Nine-Tails in Hokage Tower. From the intelligence that he had received from within the ANBU Torture and Interrogation Force, Kumo had actually shifted their focus from kidnapping a Hyuuga child in favour of trying to steal the Nine-Tails. It wasn't surprising; the Nine-Tails was an unlimited source of despicably powerful chakra. The demon was one-of-a-kind, but the Hyuuga would continue to reproduce within Konoha. Kumo had probably thought that a member of the Hyuuga could be stolen at a later time.

The ensuing execution of the almost-thief had brought _some_ political repercussions, but Konoha's uncharacteristically strong response in dispatching the intruder had sealed the lie as the truth in every other mind but Konoha's elders' and Uchiha Fugaku.

Confident in the jinchuuriki's forgotten status, Danzo had gotten to work on the child, to mould him into a shinobi that would be of great use to Konoha. And if the boy managed to complete this next mission (likely the boy's _greatest _mission), it would all but prove that he had succeed.

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

Sounds of elementary training.

"Nine. Two," he called.

_Thunk. Thunk._

Silence. There was a soft rustle of movement, though Danzo was fairly certain that the origin of such noise originated from Two, rather than Nine.

When he came into the center clearing of the training grounds, the kneeled forms of Nine and Two greeted him. Long distances away, a tree with a bulls-eye target hanging from one of its branches stood. Other than the singular stain of black in the middle of the target, nothing else was disturbed.

Nine was the miniature clone of his father, with blond hair and blue eyes. He had a slight build, designed for speed. Danzo had approved of this choice when the boy had first poised it as an option; possessing the Nine-Tails, Nine could draw on the beast's strength for offensive power while utilizing his inherent speed for both defensive and strategic purposes. Two, on the other hand, was deathly pale with black hair and black eyes. He was taller than Nine, also possessing a light build. He was the long-range type, trained to support Nine's frontal assault with projectiles and his superb ink techniques.

Not one for pleasantries, Danzo began to speak as soon as he was standing before them, going straight to the purpose of his visit. Narrowing his focus entirely on the mass of blond hair, he said, "I have a mission for you, Nine. Long-term infiltration, S-class."

"Where?" Nine asked without missing a beat.

"Konoha." Danzo's lips twisted into a faint parody of a smile. "You will become Hokage."

Only the barest of twitches at the elbow gave away Nine's surprise.

"And to do so, you must induct yourself into the village and become noticed as a rising talent so that you may be considered a potential Hokage-candidate in the future."

Nine dipped his head into a deeper bow in lieu of a verbal reply.

"To that end, I have arranged for you to enrol at the Academy into your cohort class for the next year," Danzo said, "You will officially obtain your shinobi status through the village's standard procedures." He allowed a short moment of silence, allowing his two agents to absorb the information before continuing, "In return for leaving your movements unrestricted by ANBU or any similar type of posted surveillance, you will live with an Academy instructor of Sarutobi's choice. It's almost guaranteed that his shinobi will make regular reports of your progress, so keep that in mind when revealing your abilities."

"Yes sir," Nine intoned on cue.

"Two will act as your support, and will be enrolled into your class in a month's time," Danzo said. "I also permit you top priority over the use of Four, Six and Seven."

That latter proclamation, of course, was just a formality. Danzo was no fool; he'd known of the slight shift in loyalty in the children assets of ROOT years ago. They were now Nine's before they were Danzo's, and it was an assured fact that they would have aided Nine in this mission even without Danzo's explicit approval. While Danzo would have normally had them immediately eliminated for such treasonous behaviour, the fact of the matter was this: those assets were completely useless without Nine at their core. Civilian-born and lacking any sort of talent in the shinobi arts, they were at their most useful when acting as the living tools of Nine. The only exception to this logic was, perhaps, Two, but even he was lacking in comparison to Nine.

In any case, as long as Nine remained loyal to Danzo, so would the rest. And Nine would never betray ROOT (not in the true sense of the world), as well as eliminate any of these children on Danzo's orders.

"This is an important mission, Nine."

"Yes sir," Nine repeated dutifully. There was no inflection to his voice, just simple acceptance. It filled Danzo with a grim sort of satisfaction.

Giving them a nod, he gestured for them to rise. Once on their feet, Two immediately stepped back in subordination to Nine, allowing the blond to stand in full attention before Danzo.

"From today until the completion of the mission, Two will be called Sai. And Nine—" He paused for a moment in thought. It was a full minute of silence that that Danzo spoke again, having made up his mind. "Your name will be Uzumaki Naruto."

* * *

><p><strong>Note: <strong>In case people missed it in the summary, this story will have **NO PAIRINGS.** The names "Nine" and "Naruto" will be used interchangeably in this story. Reviews are greatly appreciated! Let me know what you guys think so far.

Thanks for reading!


	2. chapter 02: the first month part one

**Disclaimer:** Naruto does not belong to me.

**Summary:** Raised in the depths of the ROOT organization, a boy called Nine is charged with the mission to become the next Hokage of the Leaf. AU. No pairings.

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><p><strong>NINE<strong>

Chapter 02: First Month (1/2)

* * *

><p>"What is your name?"<p>

"Uzumaki Naruto," Nine had answered obediently. An odd name, that. _Whirlpool fishcake._ Or, alternatively, _whirlpool maelstrom._ Nine founding himself liking neither definition; both were more aesthetically pleasing than possessing any sort of utility. Names were a tool, and what use was a tool when it could do nothing more than to appeal to the equally useless notion of romanticism? 'Nine' was a far superior title.

He had expected (and been prepared) for this meeting with the Hokage. There was no way he could have not when all the variables were considered. Said variables were the following: he was the son of Namikaze Minato (better known as the Fourth Hokage), Shimura Danzo(-sama)'s youngest and most gifted protégé, and the bearer of the true seal containing the Nine-Tails. Moreover, he had been kept invisible to the public eye for eleven years. Just one of those alone would have drawn the Hokage's eye. All four? There had been no other option.

What had been unexpected about the meeting had been how short it turned out to be. The Third had merely stared at him after the initial request for his (alias) name, caught in what was undoubtedly an emotional turmoil under the guise of studying him. Nine hadn't minded; the Third's gaze had paled in comparison to Danzo's sharp and assessing looks that Nine had experienced over the years. The only thing that he _hadn't_ been prepared for had been the strength with which the room had been charged such _emotion_. As emotion was viewed as a sign of weakness that must to be purged down in ROOT, Nine hadn't had much experience in dealing with it, especially when the target of such sentiments was himself. So he bore it like he'd bear any interrogation: still, proper, and silent.

Though. He likely hadn't helped his situation by styling his hair as an exact replica of the Fourth's, but that had been a calculated move.

Once the spell had been broken and the Third had returned from memory lane, the meeting had gone much more smoothly. Nine had stated his age (_eleven_), rank (_a hopeful Academy student_), and immediate superior (_Shimura Danzo_). After that, he'd been taken through an accelerated version of the Academy's admission requirements.

_Do you love the village and help preserve peace and prosperity?_ Yes sir.

_Have you a mind that will not yield and a body capable of enduring hard training and work?_ Yes sir.

_Are you healthy in mind and body?_ At this question, the Hokage's gaze had gone gentle around the corners, as if urging Nine to confess that eleven years spent with ROOT had been difficult. Nine had merely tilted his head and smiled a purposefully fake smile as he spoke his answer: yes sir.

The Third had been silent for a moment afterward before drawing his pipe away from his mouth to ask a bizarre question: "Do you have any friends, Naruto?"

Friends. Yet another useless concept. Shinobi needed only a superior, allies and enemies to function at optimal levels.

Out-loud, however, Nine had nodded and said, "Yes sir."

"Describe them to me," the Third had prompted, his voice thick with disbelief and amusement.

Despite the unusuality of the question, Nine had obeyed without question, just as he had been trained, "One of them is a boy who's really gifted at art. Another became a med-nin at sixteen." Not wanting to be pressed into describing Two and Six's personalities (or, Heavens forbid, _how _Nine had become 'friends' with them), he'd then curved the conversation back into the path of relevance. "I was told that I would have to live with a Chuunin instructor over my Academy year?"

The Third had given him a smile that was part-melancholy and part-disappointment (over _what_, Nine could not even begin to fathom), but thankfully relinquished the address of the Chuunin assigned as Nine's watch.

The apartment of the said Chuunin was where Nine was standing in now. He took his time wandering down the short hallways while counting his steps. He checked every room and made note of their size and defensibility, possible hazards, points of entry and exits. He made note of the distinct _lack _of security in the place as a whole, and decided that his own room, the small one down the hallway to the left, would have to be left in a similarly defenseless state for the purposes of camouflage.

On a superficial level, the apartment was modest. It was small enough to serve as a living space for a single adult without being stifling while being large enough to accommodate another person without making it feel too cramped. There was a number of furniture (meant for luxury rather than practicality) spread out between the living room area and the bedrooms. The walls were painted in the typical green hue of Konoha, and a large poster of Konoha's symbol was plastered over the far wall across from the kitchen. A number of personal items were scattered throughout the apartment, giving the place a subtle personal touch that betrayed the personality and disposition of the shinobi living here.

In general, everything was so different from the Spartan designs of the rooms down in ROOT headquarters that it was almost overwhelming.

"Is everything to your liking, Naruto-kun?"

Nine turned to face his Chuunin chaperone (the Third's spy) and twisted his lips into a practiced smile while pitching his voice and intonation to match his chosen personality. "Yeah, everything's great! Thanks so much for taking me in."

"It's no problem at all," Touji Mizuki smiled back, his expression just as fake as Nine's. "Let's get along, hm?"

Nine could already tell that he would have to be wary of this man. Turning his grin into a toothy one, he showed off his unusual canines as he spoke his response, "You bet!"

* * *

><p>When Iruka had been told that a new student would be enrolling into his class, the one set to graduate this coming year, he'd been prepared for several scenarios. Maybe the child was one of the Uchiha, jumping grades from one of the younger classes. Perhaps a Hyuuga from the Branch Family. It certainly had to be a child of great talent and confidence to meet the Academy's standards in a limited amount of time, and those kinds of children usually came from one of the major clans. Broadly put, he'd been expecting to teach this generation's version of Uchiha Itachi and Hatake Kakashi.<p>

What he _hadn't_ been expecting (not in a million years) was getting a miniature copy of the Fourth Hokage.

Blond hair, blue eyes, a distinctive hair style, and an easy smile. If it weren't for the three parallel whisker-like scars on each cheek, Iruka would have been inclined to believe that he'd somehow gone back in time or that he'd been placed under the most bizarre genjutsu that he'd the chance to experience.

"Hello," the boy said with a smile.

"Uh, good morning," Iruka responded with a blink. "Are you the new student set to enroll today?"

"Yeah," the boy confirmed. His smile never wavered as he tilted his head in a show of curiosity, taking a moment to blatantly study Iruka with his bright blue gaze. Iruka found himself twitching, shifting his weight between his feet as the silence stretched on, feeling both off balance and on edge for no reasons that he could grasp. Iruka nearly sighed out loud in relief when the boy finally spoke: "You're Iruka-sensei, aren't you? My homeroom instructor?"

Iruka blinked. "Er, yes, I am Iruka. Have we met before?"

"Nope!" the boy said brightly, his whole demeanour shifting from assessing to charming in less than a second, "I could just tell from the scar across your nose. Anyway, it's nice to meet you, Iruka-sensei! I'm Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto."

Well, at least the name checked out.

Iruka shook his head, told himself to get a grip, and gave the newly confirmed Naruto a small, but genuine, smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Naruto. Though I have to say, you're a little early. Classes won't be starting for another half-hour or so."

"I know," Naruto said. "I thought I'd come a little early to see what the Academy looked like. Mizuki-san said that it would be a good idea to."

Iruka blinked. "Mizuki-san?" Then it clicked. "Wait, Touji Mizuki? One of our instructors?"

"The very same," Naruto nodded, "You know I have to live with one of the instructors for the year, right? I think Hokage-sama wanted to pick you at first, but 'cause you're my primary instructor, he changed his mind and wanted me to stay with someone else. Just in case you grew so fond of me that you start playing favourites or something." Naruto seemed to pause for an intake of breath, but it seemed too calculated to feel truly authentic. "Well, in any case, if you _didn't_ know, that's the gist of it."

A headache was beginning to tease at Iruka's temples. "I... see."

Not even giving Iruka a chance to question as to _why _Naruto was required to live with an instructor, Naruto ploughed onward with his next question with a grin. "So, so, do you mind if I look around the building?"

That snapped Iruka out of his bewildered daze. "Hm? Weren't you given a tour? It's usually standard procedure to give new students a chance to look around a week before classes."

"Probably. But I'm a bit of a special case, so I think they forgot," Naruto shrugged.

To call Naruto a _special case_ was likely putting things too lightly. With a shake of his head, Iruka offered, "Well, I have some free time. Would you like me to give you a brief tour, Naruto?"

Naruto's grin grew even wider. "_Would _I? I'd appreciate that a lot!"

Finally feeling like he'd found his footing, Iruka grinned back down at the boy and gestured toward the front doors. "Okay then. Follow me."

It was common for the full tour to take close to forty-five minutes, even up to an hour and a half if a particularly keen student wanted to test the various training facilities made available at the Academy. And so Iruka wasn't surprised that he was forced to pick and choose the places that he could physically introduce to Naruto; the blond was as keen as they came in addition to coming equipped with an apparently unquenchable drive to _know_. It filled Iruka with a minor case of guilt that he had to trim Naruto's tour down into something so compact, but he tried to compensate for the time limitation by speaking more while freely offering additional information at Naruto's interjecting questions.

Despite a necessity of haste, however, the entire thing progressed without a hitch. Went almost _too _smoothly, Iruka thought.

Naruto had been quiet and compliant throughout the tour, easily relinquishing situational control to Iruka despite the volume of his inquiries. He'd listened without ever being distracted, letting Iruka's explanations wash over him in such a fashion that Iruka wouldn't be surprised if Naruto could recite his babble word-for-word. Not _once_ had he felt Naruto's focus shift away from him, and the level of concentration that the boy pinned on Iruka had been so great a weight that Iruka found himself feeling rather self-conscious half-way through.

It was with a mixture of relief and regret that Iruka found himself terminating the tour when a wave of students began filtering through the hallways in search of their classrooms.

"It's okay, Iruka-sensei," Naruto said with a shrug in response to Iruka's apology. "I'll just look around some more on my own time later."

Of that, Iruka had no doubt. Forcing himself to remain smiling, Iruka said, "Just come find me if you have any more questions, okay, Naruto?"

"I will," Naruto answered toothily.

With a nod, Iruka jerked his head to the right. "Now, we should probably get going to our classroom too. We have to introduce you to everyone and find you a seat."

It was customary for new students to show a degree of anxiety prior to introducing themselves to their Academy class. It was an open secret that children were judged and profiled by their instructors, and that these files were open to scrutiny by any shinobi of at least _some _importance and rank. Though many shinobi sneered at the Academy curriculum, it was still an undisputed fact that one's years at the Academy _did _matter. Why?

The image that a child presented in the Academy often stuck with them deeply into their careers. First impressions were powerful things, after all. Clan children understood very well; their parents had most likely imparted this knowledge to them prior to their enrollment. Civilian-born children took a little longer to catch onto this hidden facet of their Academy years, but most were sharp enough to _at_ _least_ become aware of it subconsciously.

Not to mention that these _were _still children, and this would be their first real step into the shinobi world. It was only natural to be nervous.

"Hello," Naruto was saying in front of the class, all smiles and effortless charm, "My name is Uzumaki Naruto. Nice to meet you all."

And, of course, Naruto _would _blow even that expectation out of the water.

There wasn't even a trace of anxiety in Naruto's voice, but nor was there indifference or disinterest. In fact, if Iruka didn't know any better, he would have sworn that there had been _nothing _underpinning the boy's voice. Naruto's words had been just that: words. They conveyed no feeling, only meaning.

Was Naruto just abnormally well-adjusted? Or was it that Naruto was just poor at conveying emotion? Throughout the tour, the boy hadn't shown an expression outside his unnervingly consistent smile. There was something _wrong _with the boy. Iruka was certain of it, even if he couldn't quite explain the feeling beyond the fact that this boy made him feel needlessly tense and slightly defensive.

He glanced down at Naruto, who was smiling and watching his classmates greet him back with a uniform _hey Naruto_ like how one would watch fish: serene, calm, and utterly detached. Iruka didn't bother suppressing his shudder and gladly threw himself into the distracting task of teaching a bunch of eleven year olds how to become humanoid weapons of their village.

* * *

><p>He was reading a book on human emotions. Or more accurately, he was reading a human psychology book with a large chapter dedicated to emotion.<p>

_Semantics_.

Regardless, the book was proving to be highly educational. It deconstructed emotions into a fine balance of chemicals and situational awareness, and how specific expressions could be constructed through fine manipulations of facial muscles. It delved only briefly into the psychology and explanation of each emotion, retaining a biologist's tone throughout. The language that the author had employed was as clear and concise as language could possibly go, and Nine found himself in appreciation of it.

A leaf fell onto the pages of his book. Nine gave it a long stare, and then tilted his head upwards toward the branches of the tree. Another leaf fell, as if in response. Nine looked back down at his book, flipped a page, and murmured, "Hey Seven."

"Heya Nine," came the chipper response from above, "Sorry I'm late."

"You're not," Nine said. Turning his attention back to the book, he began skimming a paragraph: _anger is one of the most robust emotions in the human repertoire. It is often translated into an expression through the contractions of..._

"You read that thing like it's a national bestseller or something."

When Nine raised his head away from the book, he heard, rather than see or feel, a body land on the soft grass on an adjacent side of the tree as to be effectively shielded from the majority of the Academy's population. Nine was situated at an angle that made reading his lips a challenge himself; if anyone were to see him now, they would assume that he was simply reading his book out loud.

Seven was a boy that was two years older than Nine, trained in the art of reconnaissance. He was Nine's primary source of information, the only informant that Nine trusted to retrieve swift and accurate intelligence. This ability was undoubtedly linked to Seven's peculiar condition: the boy was dead, chakra-wise. Specifically, he did not possess a chakra signature strong enough to be sensed. According to Six, a med-nin under Nine's command, Seven was something of a mutant, having been born with a chakra reserve so small that he was nearly undetectable. Meaning, with the added training in stealth, Seven was all but invisible in the shinobi world. Of course, this also meant that Seven would never be useful as a well-rounded shinobi and would always be sub-par (if that) in terms of offensive power, but he was second to none in reconnaissance.

Nine flipped over another page as Seven spoke again. "So. Hokage, huh? S'a tall order. Not to mention arrogant. People strive to become Hokage their entire lives without success, you know."

"Yeah," Nine said, "But that's their personal desire. This is a mission."

"And Nine does not fail," Seven said cheekily. He was probably grinning. "Alright, down to business."

Another odd trait of Seven's was the boy's natural inclinations to be expressive. Though Nine knew for a fact that Seven had endured the same type of psychological conditioning as Nine had, the other boy had stubbornly retained his tendency to be expressive. Then again, being able to _form _expressions and to be able to actually _feel _the underlying emotion were two different things, and so it was also possible (and highly probable) that the emotionality that Seven displayed was nothing more than a professional act. Being able to pass off as someone normal was one of the most important factors of Seven's assigned role, after all.

"How's the timeline looking?" Seven was asking.

"While leaving room for some error, the entire mission might take up to ten to fifteen years," Nine answered, "We'll consider today as the official start date. Two's going to enroll into my class next month as my public support. We're set to graduate by the end of the academic year, and will be sorted into three-man cells with a Jounin sensei afterward."

"And after _that_ will be the Chuunin Exams," Seven mused. "All within two to three years, I guess. How long 'til Jounin?"

Nine considered the question. "Half a year after Chuunin."

"You gonna do any ANBU rotations?"

"For three years, if necessary," Nine said. "That should be enough time to build up a reputation."

There was a rustle that betrayed Seven's movement, followed by the soft tapping of a pen against paper. Seven had probably retrieved his notebook, then. It was highly unconventional (and ill-advised) for a reconnaissance-type shinobi like Seven to carry around something that could be so easily dropped or stolen, but Nine left the topic untouched for several reasons. The first was the fact that the entire thing was written in a code that only Seven and Danzo could decipher. Second reason: anything of any _real _value would not be written down at all. The notebook was most likely nothing more than an aide, composed of names and abstract words to help jog Seven's vast memory more than anything else.

The tapping noise continued as Seven said, "Okay. So, the Fifth's seat—"

"Sixth," Nine interrupted.

"Sixth?" Seven echoed blankly.

"Age limitations," Nine explained. "Officially, people become adults as soon as they become shinobi, but eighteen to twenty is around the age that most people in Konoha considers someone a true adult. Since the Third is unlikely to last another ten years as Hokage, we'll yield the Fifth's seat and target the Sixth."

"I think you can make it for the Fifth," Seven said petulantly.

"Don't overestimate my capabilities," Nine warned the boy sharply. "We'll plan for the Sixth. The Fifth can always be removed when I'm ready to take the title."

There was a short silence of continued petulance, but it didn't last long. And, as predicted, Seven was heaving out a quiet sigh to signal his defeat and submission two seconds later. Nine turned a page over. _There are several reasons as to why an average person may display anger, the most common of which being—_

"Okay," Seven said, defeated, "Well, as you've already probably deduced, a lot of things about this mission is situational. But there's still _some _consistency in the Hokage-election process that we can prepare for. The most important one being: battle capabilities and experience aside, all the previous Hokage have had some kind of connection to each other. The First and the Second were brothers, and the Third was their protégé. The Fourth was, as you know, Jiraya's student, who was the Third's student in turn. With that pattern in mind, the strongest candidates for the Fifth right now would be Jiraiya and Tsunade of the Sannin. Hatake Kakashi is a possibility too, I heard. Now, you already have a connection into the Hokage lineage, but no one else knows that, even if they might guess at it. Danzo-sama must have had a reason as not to reveal your pedigree right out, so neither should we."

Nine leaned away from his book to rest against the tree, feigning the act of resting his eyes for a moment. "So I'm going to need a specific teacher."

"Mhmm." Nine paused in returning to his reading to listen to Seven flipping through his notebook: forward by two pages, if the sounds were anything to judge by. "Hatake Kakashi is the sole surviving student of the Fourth's, so he's the only person that can serve as your Jounin-sensei to validate you as a potential Hokage candidate in the future."

"What's the probability of Hatake Kakashi becoming my Jounin-sensei?"

"I can't give you an exact percentage, but I'd say it's quite high," Seven said, a grin underlying his tone. "The Third knows about your condition, right? He can't assign an Uchiha as your Jounin-sensei without repercussions. Even if Danzo-sama's opposition is a given, I don't think Mitokado Homura or Utatane Koharu would let that decision to pass either. Still, there's also no disputing the fact that the Nine-Tails is best controlled by the Sharingan, so they gotta turn to the only non-Uchiha in possession of the Sharingan, and that's Hatake Kakashi."

Nine practiced a smile. "Makes sense."

"Yeah. So as long as he doesn't take on a Genin team this year, he'll remain available for your graduating year. Four and I'll make sure this year's team fails. Outside interference shouldn't be necessary, though; he has something of a reputation for failing his potential Genin teams, so he'll probably do that work for us." From the corner of his eyes, Nine watched Seven tilt his head in Nine's direction. "And with that, the Third will have little choice but to assign him as your sensei. We're set."

"Alright," Nine said, "Now tell me what you know about the Academy's curriculum."

Seven's response was immediate, as if he'd been expecting the question. It wouldn't surprise Nine if Seven had. "It's divided into two big chunks: general knowledge and shinobi arts. The former deals with reading, writing, mathematics, geography, and so on. Its usual form of examination is written tests. Shinobi arts teach students the basic levels of taijutsu, ninjutsu, and genjutsu. Probably serves as an introduction to chakra too. This section has both written tests and practical demonstrations, though it seems like the latter's largely limited to taijutsu training." He snapped his notebook shut. "Seriously, there's really nothing special about the education here. It's kind of pathetic, actually. So even with this limited intel, I think you'll be okay. I'll get you more info if you need it though."

Nine gave a nod. "Do you know which class I'm in?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

Pulling his concentration away from the book momentarily, Nine said, "I want an up-to-date battle statistics and any relevant background information on my classmates."

There was a tangible pause before Seven strangled out an almost comical, "_All _of them?"

"Can you do it?"

Snorting out a breath of laughter, Seven pushed himself onto his feet with minimal noise. "Of course I can. If you need it, then I'll get it done." There was a short pause, but Seven was speaking again soon enough. "You want me to look into Touji Mizuki and Umino Iruka too?"

"Yeah."

"Right, okay. Give me a few weeks." Seven leapt back up into the tree, his movements disrupting nothing. "See you later, Nine."

"Naruto," Nine corrected the empty air.

* * *

><p>Seven had described the education offered at the Academy as pathetic. Early into the second week of his first month at the Academy, Nine was hard-pressed to agree entirely.<p>

Everything seemed to be spoon-fed to the children, taking them by the hand to gently guide them through even the most rudimentary of techniques. Physical training was often limited to lengthening the endurance and stamina, improving kunai and shuriken-throwing accuracy, and going through endless repetitions of taijutsu katas. More importantly, there was no sense of urgency to any of it, nothing to hint at the fact that these children were expected to become the tools that the village would use to defend and improve itself.

Theory education was better by a hairline. Even the Academy placed a satisfactory emphasis on the rules that shinobi were bound by law to follow (or die following). Of course, that did not mean that these rules were physically practiced within the Academy's walls, but Nine supposed that that was better than having the children be completely ignorant of them. What had also been worth noting was to the degree with which Konoha's history and the accounts of the past three great wars were riddled with bias. But that was an unavoidable evil; he had actually been a little glad to see it. Finally, chakra education was confined to textbook explanations, with a few practical demonstrations mixed in-between the large chunks of theory. This did not come to Nine as a surprise, however. As civilian-born children made up over seventy percent of the Academy's student population, there likely hadn't been any other option.

All in all, Nine felt rather comfortable in admitting with absolution that he was more than capable of meeting the Academy's standards.

Not all of it would be easy though. He could already tell that the topics of civilian science and mathematics were going to take some degree of effort on his part. Though he had had training in those subjects, it had just been to the point of usefulness. For example, he knew which substances exploded upon contact with oxygen, carbon dioxide and hydrogen; he also knew how to combine common household chemicals to create poisons and irritants of the eyes, nose and skin. Unfortunately, what was on the written tests was everything that he _didn't _know. (But what kind of shinobi would honestly care that a sodium atom had one less electron than a magnesium atom?)

Still, he would bare such difficulties without complaint, because this was part of the mission, and shinobi did not criticize their orders. It wasn't their place to.

Nine pulled himself out of his thoughts to bring up an arm to block a kick aimed to his left side. This was the first time that one of his partners in taijutsu practice had managed to force him to defend rather than evade. Quite a feat for someone who'd been largely Academy-trained.

"Hey, not bad," he smiled.

Aburame Shino's expression was difficult to decipher, but the doubled force of the next punch was an answer enough.

"Whoa, whoa, what's with the hate?" Nine frowned. He paused briefly, and then switched that frown for a pout. A pout was probably a better expression to be wearing at the moment. It was an action that often carried the intent of appearing childish and guiltless.

"You are mocking me," Aburame said lowly. "You've done nothing but dodge my strikes while holding back your own."

"I don't want to break you," Nine said. That wasn't a lie; he hoped that his expression was getting his honesty across as best as it possibly could.

"Your concern is duly noted."

Nine wasn't quite sure _how_ he had managed to irritate the usually stoic boy, nor did he know how to diffuse it. So he smiled. A smile took a minimal number of muscles to produce, and it was said to be one of the most disarming expressions in the human repertoire. Extremely versatile, exceedingly useful. It was the best fallback response that Nine possessed at the moment.

Only this time, it seemed to irritate Aburame Shino even further.

_Why?_

He leaned away from the next punch, twisted around the next kick, and leapt over the other boy's head to escape the next chain of attacks. Well, the answer to that _why _wasn't entirely that important, he supposed. If it continued to appeal to his curiosity, he would check out another book on nonverbal communication after classes.

Deciding that his presented resolution to this situation to be suitable and acceptable, he returned to his thoughts while dodging another punch.

There were seven children from a major clan of Konoha currently enrolled in his class: Aburame Shino, Inuzuka Kiba, Hyuuga Hinata, Yamanaka Ino, Akimichi Chouji, Nara Shikamaru, and Uchiha Sasuke. Beyond exchanging meaningless pleasantries and physical blows under controlled environments (such as these taijutsu practices), Nine had yet to make any significant contact with any of them.

Clan children could be notoriously difficult to approach; they were far too used to being approached out of, not a desire for friendship, but fascination and ambitions of those who wished to use the children's name and status to further their own. As it took an appalling amount of time to dispel such notions from the victims' minds, Nine was biding his time, slowly establishing himself into the Academy's social hierarchy to trick the children into approach him instead. That would be an easier scenario to work with, and it would save him the trouble of acting like he _wasn't _out to use them when he actually was. Acting like he was a normal child was taxing enough on certain days.

Until such an opportunity was made available, however, Nine was making due with groups of civilian-born children that he had acquired. As Nine's new 'friends' had been part of this class rotation for years, they had information that Nine didn't. Though Seven's information would undoubtedly be more detailed and far more useful than any diagnostics that Nine could make based on the opinions of children alone, this would do for now.

Nine was forced to refocus on present happenings when he felt something crawl up his arm.

A Kikai.

Ah. And now it was getting _too _serious.

He repelled the bug with a small, concentrated burst of the Nine-Tails' chakra (_a chakra so red and poisonous that it repelled even death_) applied to his arm. Nine had trained with an Aburame a few times in the past; he knew from experience that allowing the Kikai to even _touch_ him was a mistake that could easily turn fatal.

_Concentrate_, he told himself. Clan children were cut from a different cloth; he had to adjust his skill level accordingly. Even if Aburame Shino's mastery in his inherited abilities was incomplete, he was still more capable than ninety-nine percent of the student population.

It was Uchiha Sasuke, however, who stood at the top of the hierarchy. The Uchiha was (unsurprisingly) the number one student in, not only their class, but their entire year. He was good friends with this Aburame Shino, and had a strange friendship-rivalry with Inuzuka Kiba. The Aburame was a stellar student himself (as he was currently proving), silent and rather dismissive in disposition. Inuzuka was loud and rambunctious, but he usually had the skills to back up his tough talk and taunting (according to the rumours). Akimichi Chouji and Nara Shikamaru were as thick as thieves, often keeping to themselves. They weren't anything special though; their statistics were prone to skimming the lower end of the rankings. Hyuuga Hinata was a polite but distant presence in their class; as the heir to _that_ Hyuuga Clan, she was often surrounded by the other Hyuugas (particularly those of the Branch Family, which was unusual) enrolled in the Academy, making her incredibly difficult to approach. Yamanka Ino was the most normal of the group, a popular girl within the Academy's female population. She and Haruno Sakura were notorious in their pursuit of Uchiha Sasuke, though they were known to admire other aesthetically pleasing males once in a while as well.

His thoughts gave a short pause.

That spiel was about the extent of his current knowledge on these children. He had nearly nothing in terms of reliable information regarding the children's battle capabilities (he would have to wait for Seven for that). A pity; it would have been useful in his current predicament.

He dropped the smile. There was no point in making the expression if it wouldn't be of any use. Lowering his voice to a murmur, he said to the Aburame, "Hey. Take it easy. It's just practice, right?"

_Just practice_. That certainly was a (funny) alien concept — nothing was 'just practice' down in ROOT; there was only do, die or improve.

Back to the present, the _lack _of expression seemed to work, easing away the telltale signs of agitation from the Aburame's posture. How confusing.

"If I promise to stop holding back, will you stop being angry?" Nine asked. He needed to _befriend_ this boy, not antagonize him. Perhaps this could even work in his favour as well — not many students possessed the ability to do as he was planning, and at this point, any attention would be better than the _no _attention that he'd been getting. If that meant that he had to risk antagonizing his targets by breaking a bone or two to gain their attention, then so be it.

Nine returned the nod he received, and without another word, he moved and dealt out three swift strikes to the shoulder.

To the Aburame's credit, the boy skipped the unsightly screaming and went straight into unconsciousness at the end of Nine's short onslaught. The Kikai seemed to scream in his stead, swarming out of the body in a strangely sentient act of both panic and protectiveness. Nine leapt away and discouraged any notions of revenge by leaking out just enough of the Nine-Tails chakra to intimidate them. The bugs seemed to quiver, caught in-between the instinct to flee before the demon and the need to remain loyal to their colony.

While the Kikai tried to decide the best course of action, Nine retrieved Iruka and watched the instructor play damage-control with a disinterested expression. Later, when he was chastised and questioned as to why he had done such a thing (and how), Nine only said, "I'm sorry." because it was highly unlikely that his real reason (it was for the good of the mission) would be accepted or even understood.

* * *

><p>Shino felt his consciousness return sluggishly, in small flashes. The ceiling was very white, and the light felt bright enough to make his eyes sting even through his sunglasses.<p>

"_Shino!_ Dude, you alright?"

Kiba. That voice could only belong to Kiba. No one else could be as loud.

A dry rasp was about what he could manage when he tried to speak, his throat too parched to work well enough to produce proper speech. Some water would be necessary for him to regain full control of his vocal chords, but without some means to communicate that—

"Here."

He felt a hand slip under his head and lift it up a fraction, just enough to allow the rim of a glass of water to touch his lips without spilling. Despite his first instinct to gulp down as much water as he could in one swallow, Shino told himself to practice moderation and sip at the water slowly. The whole process likely took much longer than the duration of an average person's patience, but his benefactor uttered no word of complaint or move the water away.

Shino was grateful.

"You back with us?" It was Kiba again. "Hey!"

"Lay off, Kiba," Sasuke snapped from somewhere from Kiba's left. "He just woke up. Let him focus."

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Kiba allowed Shino a full second to recover his mental functions before speaking again. How generous. Still, it was no small victory in convincing the Inuzuka to lower his volume, a feat that Sasuke had just managed to achieve. "How're you feeling?"

Shino considered this question, and then flexed the various joints throughout his body. His left shoulder exploded in pain. Sucking in a breath through his nose, he managed, "In pain."

"The med-nin fixed up your shoulder, but she couldn't prescribe you anything for the pain," Sasuke said, looking distinctly apologetic. "Your Kikai would just neutralize it."

"It's a leftover somatic sensation," Shino said. He fought down the temptation to shrug. "It will pass."

Sasuke nodded, and drew up a chair to sit by Shino's bedside. His gaze then went sharp as he asked, "So, what happened?"

"Our practice was going poorly," Shino began slowly as to gather his thoughts. Despite his above-average memory, the actual moment in which he had sustained his injury had passed far too quickly for him to pick up on all the details. But he supposed painting a general picture was passable enough in this case. "Uzumaki Naruto has a tendency to evade than block, and so I had been unable to land a single blow over the twenty-five minute practice period. As a result, I was... agitated."

Both of Sasuke's eyebrows flew up. "Agitated?"

"_You?_" Kiba exclaimed on cue.

"It was apparent that he was holding back," Shino continued, resolutely ignoring his friends' responses, "When I brought the situation to his attention, he made an unfavourable response, and I responded in a way that forced him to prove his point."

"What kind of point makes someone think they gotta dislocate someone's _shoulder_, fuck!" Kiba snarled. Akamaru gave a low whine from his spot on Kiba's head. "That piece of _shit_. I'll get Uzumaki back for you, Shino, just you watch—"

"No," Shino said sharply. "No revenge. I provoked this response."

Not to mention, given what he'd seen of Uzumaki Naruto's capabilities just recently, Shino was of the firm belief that there was nothing Kiba could do in revenge. It was highly likely that Uzumaki would register anything beyond a harmless prank as a threat to his person, and he _knew _that Kiba wouldn't be sticking to a mere prank. If the pain that Shino had suffered had been dealt while the boy had been in control, he had no desire to see what the boy would do on reflex alone. Though it was... touching that Kiba would go to such lengths for him (then again, they had been allies and friends for a full year, so perhaps it was a standard reaction), he disliked few notions more than encouraging stupidity.

More importantly, allowing Kiba to continue this line of thinking was dangerous and illogical, and Shino preferred logic over most other states of mind. Fortunately, in this case, logic and his friendly attachment to Kiba overlapped to give him a single conclusion: _Kiba should not challenge Uzumaki Naruto_. Not without back-up, a well-fleshed out plan, and a lot of luck.

"Fine. No revenge," Sasuke said, intervening before Kiba could respond. He laced Kiba with a glare when the Inuzuka looked about ready to protest. Kiba bristled, but stayed silent when Sasuke went on, "But I won't make any promises about beating him in taijutsu practice."

He should have known that Sasuke would find a loophole.

"Well," Shino said at length, "I suppose I would be a poor friend if I were to discourage you from performing your best." He paused briefly. If he couldn't _stop _Sasuke, then at the very least, he would aid him. "Would you like my impressions on his level of skill?"

The corners of Sasuke's lips kicked up into a smile. "Yeah, if you have anything useful on him."

As he spoke, Shino retreated into the deep recess of his mind to think, with one topic at the center of it all: his Kikai. Or, more accurately, his Kikai's reaction to Uzumaki Naruto, the one based solely on fear.

His Kikai had been frightened of the boy. Though they had obeyed Shino's commands, they had done so while making an excessive amount of noise. The level of pandemonium that had echoed within Shino's skull likely had a helping hand in rousing the rare sense of irritation that had ultimately landed him in the infirmary. That level of chaos only appeared when they perceived a real threat against their lives and the continued existence of their colony, and even then, their basic instinct bade them to fight. Yet, against Uzumaki Naruto, they had wished nothing more than to flee. It was as odd as it was unsettling.

At the end of his considerations, Shino came to a single (and obvious) conclusion: the boy was dangerous. But he was also intriguing. More intriguing than anything else that he had seen in years. The last time his interest had been caught so thoroughly had been two years ago, when Uchiha Sasuke had approached him, seeking both an alliance and a friendship.

He was going to have to keep an eye on Uzumaki Naruto. Perhaps even talking to him. If not to satisfy his own curiosity, then to make certain that his allies (_friends_) did not do anything exceedingly stupid to also land themselves in the infirmary as Shino had done.

But for that to become possible, Shino first had to recover. To that end, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to pass out the moment Sasuke and Kiba left his room in search of lunch.

* * *

><p>This would be the first time in two weeks and a half that Two (<em>Sai<em>, he reminded himself) would be making contact with Nine.

The meeting place had been designated to be a small side-vendor restaurant called _Ichiraku Ramen_, about fifteen minutes before the sixteenth hour. Given his pending enrollment into Nine's class in a week and a half, it was obvious as to why Sai could not meet Nine in his original form. Thus, he was currently _henge_'d into a middle-aged man with average height, an average weight, and an average disposition. His transformation possessed a face that was neither striking nor hideous; he was pretending to be someone who would be easily dismissed and forgotten.

Well, except for the buck teeth, of course.

The human eye and memory worked like this: the eye was programmed to seek out anything unusual in the environment, pulling at the limited attentional resources made available to an average human brain within a given time frame. Any deviance from the norm would then be encoded into memory, outlined and made prominent by any form of emotion that the target might feel. By taking control of this natural process, it was possible to manipulate the target into remembering nothing beyond the memory of _'this man has horrendous buck teeth'_.

It was a highly effective, yet common, trick within the shinobi population. It was probably even mentioned in 'Infiltration 101' — the easiest method to avoid notice was to _get _noticed by something striking. Something unusual. Something _specific_. Sai preferred the buck teeth because it gave him the additional bonus of a lisp, and that was often even more distracting than the teeth themselves.

Of course, this didn't worked on highly trained shinobi. Case in point? Nine_._

"One miso ramen, please!" called out a bright, young voice.

Sai allowed his head to tilt, just slightly, in the direction of that voice and immediately found himself fighting down the hysterical urge to raise an eyebrow. If he hadn't known any better, he would have denied that the boy who stood there to be Nine. He was too full of life, too full of emotion (no matter how artificial) to be the cool and efficient weapon of ROOT that Sai had vowed to serve to his dying breath. But that only spoke to how much closer Nine was becoming in perfecting his roleplay capabilities, he supposed. Still, it was quite striking; two and a half weeks ago, Nine could barely make differentiable expressions. This was incredible progress.

He turned his gaze back and away from Nine as the other boy chatted amiably with _Ichiraku_'s owner, waiting for his chance to speak. It came in the form of a genjutsu, a light touch of an expert overlay of a fake reality over the five senses of Sai, the _Ichiraku_'s owner, and the owner's daughter.

Now, ROOT training went something like this:

Taijutsu mastery was expected from all members of ROOT, as well as being capable of efficiently using at least two types of elemental chakra. (Four and Seven were excused from this latter criterion by appeal, as well as the fact that they were considered as extensions of Nine at best.) There was also a standard level of strength, speed, stamina, and stealth that every ROOT asset had to meet. Though the cut-off score was already quite high, it was not unusual to continue to develop those characteristics beyond the acceptable level. It was expected that all assets would continue to strive to improve, and those four areas were the easiest to develop in-between missions.

Specialization beyond those core criteria was done at the individual level, the shinobi themselves choosing how else to groom themselves into useable assets. This was likely the only allowable form of individualization in ROOT, though receiving approval regarding their chosen specialization field from Danzo was also commonplace. Sai had decided to capitalize on his artistic talents (_"That's really good," Nine had said to him once, eying one of Two's freestyle paintings._), Six had gone down the route of the medic, and Four had chosen to primarily work with poisons. Seven, of course, was their informant. And Nine? Nine was a speed-oriented taijutsu-genjutsu hybrid: well-rounded, adaptable, and unpredictable.

If the Uchiha were said to be capable of trapping people within their own minds, then Nine _chained_ them to it.

Sai freely admitted that he did not completely understand the depth with which Nine could twist and manipulate the art of genjutsu. He knew that the basis of the ability lay within Nine's precarious relationship with the Nine-Tails, but the _how_? He had no idea. He hadn't bothered to ask either, simply because there was no reason for him to know. He also did not particularly enjoy thinking about the Nine-Tails in conjunction with Nine, because—

Well. Worded alternatively, had Sai been the more emotional type, he would have admitted to that line of thought being frightening. Alas, he was not, so he would have to settle with it feeling 'uncomfortable' instead.

"You used the teeth trick twice in a row now," Nine said in a way of greeting. He slipped onto the stool beside Sai, and returned the scrutiny that Sai had placed him under. "Try a broken nose the next time you have use _henge_."

"Alright," Sai said, tilting his head down in a show of compliance.

"We got eight minutes," Nine said. "Beyond that, it's highly likely that my genjutsu will be noticed."

Eight minutes. That was shorter than Nine's usual duration, but it was understandable; they were, after all, currently located in the middle of non-ROOT territory. He would have to speak quickly.

Sai (_Two_, one of Nine's loyal tools) gave a short and said, "I'm to take your progress and deliver a message from Danzo-sama."

Nine considered his options briefly, and, without preamble, confessed in his typical deadpan, "I dislocated Aburame Shino's shoulder."

Sai blinked slowly. That was... unexpected.

"He was under the impression that I was mocking him by holding back," Nine continued, either oblivious to, or ignoring, Sai's reaction. It was likely the latter.

"Ah," Sai managed.

"It has put a bit of a schism between my classmates and myself," Nine said, propping an elbow on the counter. Sai watched with some amount of surprise as Nine began to drum at the wood with his fingers — that was an unconscious tic, wasn't it? Nine had already begun to develop such characteristics?

"Will it be a problem?" Sai asked because Danzo would.

"No," Nine said after a moment of pause. "That single event got me more attention than two weeks of playing by their rules. The Academy generally views deviance as signs of talent rather than disobedience."

Sai shook his head briefly. "Regardless, Danzo won't be too pleased by your actions."

"Danzo-_sama_," Nine said with trace of steel underlining his tone, "values results above all else. I still have a week to repair relations before my first official report." He gave a dismissive wave with a hand. "Give me the message."

Accepting the fact that the subject of Aburame Shino's dislocated shoulder was now over, Sai began to recite the information that he had been required to memorize prior this meeting: "The Academy holds a large assessment at the end of each month. Its main purpose is to help the Instructors rank their students, and so the students are both allowed and encouraged to display the full spectrum of their capabilities. These monthly assessments have been proven to hold the greatest predictive power in estimating a child's current and future capabilities. It's also known to draw an audience if a particular year is known to have a number of promising students." Sai paused briefly, allowing Nine exactly seven seconds to digest everything properly before he delivered the crux of the message. "Uchiha Fugaku will be present among the audience this month."

The sudden spike in killing intent was palpable. Sai drew in an anxious breath and waited in silence while Nine stared down at the counter top of _Ichiraku _with so much intensity and focus that Sai found himself wondering _when _(not _if_) the wood would catch on fire.

_No,_ Sai thought, _that's not Nine._

"I see," Nine said at last. The demonic killing intent did not lessen. "And my orders?"

"Crush Uchiha Sasuke," Sai relayed faithfully.

Nine made a few slow blinks, and then raised his head to pin his gaze on Sai. "Are those orders word-for-word?"

"Yes," Sai said.

The killing intent vanished.

He reached into his pockets to pull out a piece of paper and held it out to Nine. "This is Uchiha Sasuke's most recent battle statistics. In summary: high level of taijutsu mastery, low-level _Katon _mastery, and minimal training in genjutsu. He does not yet possess the Sharingan."

Nine took the paper, unfolded it, and skimmed it within thirty seconds. Giving Sai a sharp nod, he then tucked it away into his pockets. "Six minute warning. Did Seven say how you can win these assessments?"

"Yes. There are several ways," Sai said, "If your opponent is knocked unconscious or is removed from the designated sparring arena, you win. Alternatively, an Instructor may manually announce a winner when there is a clear gap in abilities between the participants."

Nine considered these options briefly, and then gave another nod.

"Danzo-sama has suggested that you take the next few days to fully assess Uchiha Sasuke's capabilities. During that time period, adhere to the Academy taijutsu katas during practice to help lull the Uchiha into a sense of superiority." This was a word-for-word recital of Danzo's words. What a troublesome person, Sai thought distantly. (This latter thought could never be voiced out-loud, he knew. _Especially_ not in the presence of Nine.)

"Understood." There was a short pause. "The minutes are up. I'm breaking the genjutsu."

Sai turned away from Nine to face forward just as he felt reality shatter and reform around him. He heard Nine hop down from his stool to walk away far before Sai could remember to remind Nine of his order of one miso ramen. Undeterred, the owner of _Ichiraku_ placed the bowl down in front of Sai with a hearty _'enjoy!'_ instead, leaving him to stare down at the meal in confusion until he glanced up to notice the lack of uncertainty in the chef's eyes — this man truly believed that Sai had been the one to place this order.

He'd been in the middle of snapping his chopsticks apart when the answer hit him: Nine had switched the order's target to Sai within the owner's mind during the genjutsu.

_He could've at least ordered a beef ramen_, Sai thought. Especially if this had been Nine's plan all along.

Well, nothing could be done about that now. Quirking a practiced smile in helpless amusement (and fascination over Nine's uncharacteristic antics), Sai clapped his hands together and spoke through his _henge_'s lisp, "Thank you for the meal."

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong> Sorry about the long wait! I am writing this in chunks of 'months' as to make sure that the narrative runs smoothly — the second part of the first month is almost finished, so hopefully that'll be up soon. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter too; they were all greatly motivating.

Let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading!


	3. chapter 03: the first month part two

**Disclaimer:** Naruto does not belong to me.

**Summary:** Raised in the depths of the ROOT organization, a boy called Nine is charged with the mission to become the next Hokage of the Leaf. AU. No pairings.

* * *

><p><strong>NINE<strong>

Chapter 03: First Month (2/2)

* * *

><p>Sasuke's first meeting with Shino had had the following chronology:<p>

_Build bridges,_ his father had told him. _Strength is important, but allies are even more valuable._

It'd been the mantra that Sasuke had been raised on, the mantra that he was willing to live by, especially if that was what it took to earn his father's approval and be superior to his brother even minutely. Itachi didn't have many friends; he had his family and trusted coworkers and Shishui, but his friendship with the members of other clans was lacking. This was an area in which Sasuke could _finally _beat Itachi, and it'd been with that thought in mind that he had gotten to work upon Academy enrollment.

He'd known of the Uchiha's stigma, of course. His father had told him about it, about how their supposedly dead founder, Uchiha Madara, had attacked the village using the Nine-Tails on the year of Sasuke's birth.

_It will be a difficult barrier to break, _his father had said, _but with perseverance comes opportunity, and opportunity is all the Uchiha need to succeed._

Upon realizing that he had been enrolled into a class with an unusually high number of clan children, Sasuke had wasted no time approaching several of them. His initial choice had been Nara Shikamaru (if only for the reason that the Nara had sat next to him in homeroom for a while), but it had taken very little time to ascertain that their personalities were incompatible — where Shikamaru shirked all ambition, Sasuke _lived _on it. His next attempt had been with Hyuuga Hinata, an approach fueled by a bizarre and brief burst of courage and childhood stupidity. She hadn't turned him down, per se, but relations between a Hyuuga and an Uchiha could only develop so far. He didn't consider that attempt to be a complete failure, however, as it had been that initial approach that had bled and eventually developed into something of amicable rivalry between the Hyuuga and himself that continued even now, two years later.

Shino had been his third attempt. The Aburame had neither discouraged nor encouraged Sasuke's quest for his alliance and eventual loyalty, merely remaining as a constant source of companionship until, over time, a friendship had taken root. In essence, Shino was Sasuke's first friend and confidant, and when such an important figure of your life was hurt, it was natural to desire revenge against the offender, wasn't it?

Taijutsu practice at the Academy took place over the course of an hour in halves. The first half-hour was dedicated to the review and repetition of basic katas, dealing out strikes against a stationary target. It was boring and almost felt like a pointless exercise, especially in the light of the fact that this class would be graduating by the end of the school year. Thankfully, the second half-hour was much more interesting and entertaining, often serving as the highlight of the day for many students, Uchiha Sasuke included. This was the half-hour dedicated to sparring, where the students were paired with each other. Though they were instructed to stick to the basic katas, few did. Real-time battle rarely went as choreographed as kata-use requested, and no matter what Iruka-sensei said about how 'doing their best' was the most important part, everyone knew that this was about _winning_.

Especially when there was someone you _had_ to beat (or beat _up_, as it were), as Sasuke currently did.

To prevent the development of sparring cliques, the Academy arranged these spars by rotating the match-ups throughout the month, ideally allowing everyone a chance to fight every member of their class at least once before the monthly assessments.

Nearly a week after Uzumaki Naruto had dislocated Shino's shoulder, Sasuke was glad to see that he had been paired with the blond. It was about time. He'd staved off his antagonism as much as he could throughout the past week (barring glares, silent treatments, and subtle mockeries aside) at Shino's insistence, so it would be something of a relief to _finally_ be able to act on it.

He didn't bother exchanging pleasantries with Uzumaki when they were told to line up. As soon as the _start!_ sounded, Sasuke lunged.

Contrary to what he had heard from Shino, Uzumaki Naruto was blocking. Seemed fond of it, in fact.

Actually, there was absolutely nothing special about the blond's style at all, not with how Uzumaki was obscenely obedient to the Academy-style taijutsu katas. The movements were blocky and mechanical, almost jerky in certain instances — it was obvious that the blond was consciously guiding his body to adhere to the katas, but to what purpose? Slight variation from the basic katas was encouraged in the upper year students of the Academy, to help them start building natural lines of motions unique to their body shape and size. To go against that meant going against one's instinct and intuition, and the cost of doing such a thing was death and injury.

Or so Itachi had told him.

_It was apparent that he was holding back,_ Shino had said.

Sasuke now understood entirely what his friend had meant.

Injuries were not unheard of during these practices, but to go out of one's way to dislocate someone's shoulder? That was overkill, no matter what Shino had said about 'provoking the response'. The fact that Uzumaki had done it to one of Sasuke's closest friend had been inexcusable (unforgiveable) to the Uchiha, and so Sasuke had been looking forward to his spar with Uzumaki simply as a way in which he could exact revenge on Shino's behalf. That had been the original motivation.

But now? Now it felt like he was slipping, little by little. Slipping until this was somehow no longer about the simple act of revenge. Sasuke didn't want to look into the feeling too deeply.

Aiming yet another kick at Uzumaki's head (which was, of course, blocked), Sasuke purposefully goaded, "Don't tell me this is the best you can do, Uzumaki."

"Right back at you, Uchiha," Uzumaki countered. "You call that a kick?"

Sasuke scowled. Fine, if that's how Uzumaki wanted to play, then Sasuke had no complaints.

Doing a half pivot back, Sasuke spun his body for momentum as he aimed the heel of his right foot at the other boy's side. This was a blow that carried a little too much force to be effectively blocked; anyone could tell that the correct answer to this situation was to dodge. And, predictably, that was what Uzumaki did. Smiling grimly, Sasuke responded accordingly, dropping his hands to the ground to twist his body in the air as to readjust the trajectory of his kick as to account for Uzumaki's evasion.

Something in Uzumaki's eyes flashed right before the boy responded with a blow of his own, with just enough power to repel Sasuke away.

Furrowing his brows, Sasuke spun in the air to land on his feet. As soon as he was upright and balanced, he launched himself at the blond again, throwing blow after blow. Though Uzumaki blocked and returned the blows with calculated efficiency, nothing about Uzumaki's body language hinted at the danger and aggression that had landed Shino in the infirmary last week. Had it just been a fluke? An accident?

But that made no sense. No one could just 'accidentally' (easily, cleanly) dislocate the shoulder of an evenly matched opponent. Breaking an arm was far easier and more likely to occur on the scale of probability.

_Unless they're not evenly matched,_ something inside him reasoned. _Remember father's stories about Itachi?_

Itachi, too, had dealt his share of injuries on other students during his time at the Academy. Not to the level of a spontaneously dislocated shoulder, but enough to have left an impression on the student population.

So perhaps Itachi could dislocate a shoulder by simply deciding to, but Itachi was a prodigy among prodigies, representing the standards that Sasuke could never meet or live up to. Sasuke had forced himself to accept that, to swallow the frustration of being so absolutely average in comparison to his brother. His only source of comfort in the face of that reality had been the fact that _no one_ could compare to Itachi. Not even the Sharingan thief, Hatake Kakashi.

Yet here was Uzumaki Naruto, a transfer student, appearing out of nowhere to somehow feel as though he could give Itachi a good run for his money. A boy Sasuke's age shouldn't be able to; it was supposed to have been _impossible_.

... _No_, Sasuke thought viciously. What the hell was he thinking? Supposed to _have been? _No. It _was_ impossible. Itachi couldn't be beaten, plain and simple, because Itachi couldn't be beaten by anybody. One dislocated shoulder meant nothing, and Sasuke was going to prove it.

With his teeth grit in determination, he managed to deal the last blow before Iruka began calling out the conclusion to the day's taijutsu practice, slamming an elbow blow against Uzumaki's raised forearm. It caused Sasuke no small amount of satisfaction to see a faint flicker of _something_ fleeting across the other boy's expression.

"You sure you don't need to get that looked at?" Sasuke asked afterward, not even bothering to feign looking apologetic.

Uzumaki was holding his forearm in a hand with his typical smile in place. "I'll be fine. Just know that I'm going to pound you into the ground next time, Uchiha!"

Sasuke bristled. _Just try it, deadlast_, he thought viciously.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to swallow the frustration to walk away (as to save himself from saying anything that might further damage his pride) by Shino, who was approaching them once he had noticed that the match was over.

Due to his shoulder, Shino was barred from any physical workouts until mid-next week. Though he had been granted permission to leave early (taijutsu practice was usually the last class for the day), the Aburame had chosen to remain in order to observe Sasuke's match. Sasuke was glad for this; he was aching to discuss the happenings of the spar with someone, and that would be much easier if Shino had actually _seen_ it, as opposed to simply listening to Sasuke's paraphrased version. There was more to it than that, of course; Sasuke enjoyed dissecting situations with someone as rational as Shino as a general rule. It helped clear his mind and refocus his thoughts. It would help soothe the irritation bubbling at the pit of his stomach as well.

Sasuke watched as Shino and Uzumaki share a terse greeting (_Uzumaki_ and _hey, Aburame, feeling better?_ respectively), and turned away from the blond to walk away without a word as soon as the pleasantries had finished being exchanged.

"Would you like to include Kiba in the discussion?" Shino asked, easily falling into step with Sasuke.

After a moment of consideration, Sasuke shook his head. "Probably best if we didn't." Which meant that their discussion would have to wait until later. It was a minor annoyance, but Sasuke could be patient. "Where is he?"

Shino lifted his free arm to point to the left. "I think his partner for today is Hyuuga Hinata."

Sasuke skidded to a halt. Well, in that case, nevermind.

"Let's leave him," he said.

Shino's lips twitched in amusement.

Hyuuga Hinata was the heir to the Hyuuga's Main Family, and was currently ranked as the number two student in their year. Though exceedingly polite due to her inherent timidity, in battle, she was a cool and collected fighter, formidable even when she was not using her Byakugan and the Gentle Fist. In comparison, Kiba was brash and far too hot-headed, always blitzing at his opponent in hopes of catching them off-guard even when Akamaru was barred from helping him in these practices. It wasn't difficult to see which would come away as the victor in such a match-up. But _every time_ (and Sasuke knew it was every time because, God help him, he was _keeping track_), Kiba would blame his loss as a fault of facing a _girl_ and that he had been holding back because of it (this was, of course, a lie). Hinata would bear the drivel with a gracious smile, but her posse of Hyuugas of the Branch Family never did. The ensuing argument had a tendency to reach a volume that never failed to give Sasuke a headache.

Even more annoyingly, if Shino and Sasuke showed up while the argument was taking place, they were expected to help defend their friend's bullshit as the truth. And with the relations between the Uchiha and the Hyuuga as precarious as it was, Sasuke ended up being the core target of Hyuuga Hinata's posse, despite his silent agreement that the Hyuuga heir was, in fact, superior. It was just a big mess.

While he may have been willing endure the torture on a better day, Sasuke wasn't feeling all that nice today. Kiba would have to defend his honour on his own.

When Shino finally gave a minute shrug. Sasuke took that as a confirmation and had them turn around to sneak back into the main building to grab their bags before heading home. Kiba would likely cuss them out tomorrow, but that was a lesser evil in comparison to the argument that was likely taking place right this minute.

On their way back, they took the long route as to buy themselves enough time to talk. Sasuke told Shino of his impressions of Uzumaki Naruto while carefully leaving out his strange resemblance to Itachi, and Shino revealed to him that he had come to similar conclusions, though he went into further detail regarding the uneven displays of skill that they had observed over the month. Despite being so obviously capable and talented, Shino said, Uzumaki was unusually sloppy in keeping his skill at a convincing and consistent level. It was as if the blond was still trying to make up his mind, still in the process of calibrating himself to the Academy. And that led to the question of _why_ Uzumaki was bothering to do such a thing.

After Shino fell into silence in an attempt to puzzle _that_ out, Sasuke found himself admitting that more than the reason why, he wanted to know _how far up_ the blond stood above them. If he was above them at all. Both Sasuke and Shino were considered to be talented too, after all. Uzumaki's skill could simply be fluctuating due to poor control. Yes, he had dislocated Shino's shoulder, but beyond that single anomaly, Uzumaki hadn't done anything particularly special at all. Not even today, when Sasuke had given the blond ample reason to fight back against the Uchiha's deliberate aggression.

By the end of Sasuke's speech, Shino gave him a considering stare, as if the Aburame could sense the fact that Sasuke wasn't seeking to prove that Uzumaki was nothing more than a _nobody_ on the basis of curiosity alone. As if Shino could just _tell_ that somewhere along the line, this had turned personal. Sasuke wouldn't be surprised if Shino _could_.

"I suppose we will see at the end-of-month assessments," Shino said at last. "You'll have a second chance to fight him then."

"If he makes it to the final match-up," Sasuke snorted.

"He will," Shino said with easy confidence.

For some reason, despite wanting to, Sasuke couldn't bring himself to disagree.

* * *

><p>Nine had barely touched the doorknob to Touji Mizuki's apartment when he came to the realization that there was a stranger in the apartment — another shinobi, likely only Chuunin-level in skill. Shouldering off his backpack, Nine held it by his side by a light grip on one of his straps and considered his options with the barest tilt of the head.<p>

It was no work at all to conduct several simulations using three different body types — light and fast, average, heavy and powerful — in his mind as well as deconstruct several methods by which they could be intercepted and taken down. He had his standard pouch of weapons on him in addition to a number of hidden kunai, had enough chakra to take down a standard Jounin opponent, and several neighbours who could serve as an audience should it become necessary to exploit his childish exterior. Nothing got people moving faster than the screams of a child, especially in an emotional village like Konoha.

He glanced down at his bag briefly. This could be useful too, he mused. It could serve as both a shield from projectiles and a one-time tool that could be used to obstruct the intruder's vision. Its current placement in Nine's hands also gave Nine the advantage of camouflage — if, by some chance, the stranger in Touji Mizuki's building was revealed to be no more than a civilian robber, he could appear to be nothing more than a student. Of course, this latter-most option was a scenario of extremely low probability, but there was no harm in preparing for it.

The full analysis took place under two seconds. _Two seconds too long_, he knew, but the pause wasn't so long as to cause any suspicion. Narrowing his eyes, Nine sharpened his instincts and carefully released a tiny amount of (_the Nine-Tails'_) killing intent into the apartment. Nine well was aware of the razor-thin line of balance with which he had to use the Nine-Tails — it was a useful tool, but to use it without caution in a village full of shinobi was simply asking for and the wrong type of attention. The amount that he released was not enough to be noticed by civilians, but it _was _enough to tickle at senses of low-level shinobi in, say, a 5 meter radius.

As expected, the stranger within the apartment stopped moving.

It _was _a shinobi, then.

Lips set in a grim line, Nine turned the doorknob and let the door swing open by its own momentum. When a kunai came flying toward his head without ceremony, he crouched into the comfortable and familiar rhythm of battle. Alright, so it was the non-friendly type of shinobi. (Nine really didn't mind enemies; they were straight-forward in their handling, unlike the multifaceted rules and regulations of social interactions.) Allowing his bag to absorb the impact and blade of the weapon, Nine pivoted into the apartment with one strong push of his left leg while reaching into his weapons pouch to draw out several shurikens.

_One._

_Two._

_Three-four_—

Four shurikens were all that he needed to corner the intruder, and, after judging that only one more kunai would be necessary to subdue the stranger, he hurled the bag forward while simultaneously sliding underneath its trajectory after hearing the telltale signs of evasion. Another breath in, he was leaping back onto his feet and weaving around the enemy shinobi's legs. He dealt out two quick strikes to the back of their knees and heard a yelp of pain (female, if the voice was anything to judge by) as he was balancing his weight on his hands to twist his legs up and around the intruder's waist to _bring them down. _He didn't allow them a chance to retaliate, quickly leaping away so that there was a neutral distance between them.

The opponent groaned softly and rolled onto her back.

Twirling the kunai around his wrist once, Nine stalked forward and planted a knee at the solar plexus.

The woman wheezed in pain.

"Okay," Nine said pleasantly, adopting his _Uzumaki Naruto _persona with practiced ease as he leaned over his prisoner with a kunai against the neck. Had this woman shown any signs of advanced training (_ROOT _training), Nine would have immobilized her further through a variety of other methods, but as it were? His current tactic was more than enough to keep a shinobi of her calibre in place. "Wanna tell me who you are, shinobi-san?"

"Tsubaki," the woman bit out with a nervous shallow, "Touji Mizuki's — Mizuki's girlfriend."

Nine blinked slowly. There was no proof to her claim, but if it ended up being true, this _could_ be a problem. Alright then; he would have to stall her until Touji Mizuki returned to confirm (or disconfirm) her status.

"Sorry," Nine said with as much feeling as he could muster and fake. He leaned away carefully as to allow gradual passage of air back into the woman's chest and backtracked two steps, letting sit up while he simultaneously slid the kunai back up his sleeve. Watching her for any suspicious movements, he said sheepishly, "I, uh— I thought you were a thief."

"That's some legwork against a mere thief," Tsubaki said through a gasp.

"Better safe than sorry," Nine shrugged. As she caught her breath, he circled around the living room to collect his shuriken, careful not to show his back to the woman. That finished, he turned back to Tsubaki — who was watching him with an alarming amount of curiosity — and narrowed his eyes to her a pointed (and exaggerated) look. "Hey, wait a minute. Mizuki-san isn't here, so why were _you_? Were you doing anything suspicious?"

Predictably, Tsubaki cracked a smile. It was rather refreshing to finally come across someone who reacted according to his expectations, Nine thought distantly. "If you count waiting to meet Mizuki's new kid as suspicious, then I guess so."

—Ah, but that _was _suspicious. The only people that should be looking for Nine at all was Seven and Four, and they both knew the protocol in contacting him while he was in the middle of an undercover mission. Not to mention, he hardly could be counted as Touji Mizuki's child. Nine curved his lips into a smile when he found that he could not ascertain the proper response to her words. "Did Mizuki-san tell you about me?"

"Not much as much as I would have liked," Tsubaki said with a returning smile. "Maybe if he'd have told me more, this could have been prevented."

"I already said I was sorry," Nine said with a frown of feigned petulance, "And you _did _throw a kunai at my head first."

"I know," Tsubaki sighed. "And I'm _really _sorry about that. I probably scared you, huh? I just— I thought I felt—" She seemed to force herself to pause, biting her lower lip. Shaking her head, she quickly backtracked to say, "I'm glad we were able to stop that nonsense before either of us got hurt really badly."

Before _she _got hurt, Nine corrected. But he did not voice his thoughts out-loud, opting to nod instead.

"So, you're Uzumaki Naruto-kun?" Tsubaki asked him as she rubbed her throat.

"The one and only!" Nine crowed, pitching his voice up a volume. When she winced at his apparent boisterous energy, he added, "So, hey, why did you wanna meet me?"

"No special reason. Just wanted to get to know you," Tsubaki said lightly.

Unable to decipher the reason behind that statement (because, again, he _was _a child, but he was not _Touji Mizuki's_ child. There was no reason for the man's significant other to express interest in a transient, no-threat presence), Nine went with a standard reaction of acceptance: "Oh."

"You'll understand when you're older," Tsubaki said, her eyes dancing with amusement. She carefully eased herself onto her feet, making Nine tense on reflex. Rather than showing any signs of aggression, however, Tsubaki merely placed her hands on her hips. "It looks like we got off to a bad start, hm? How about I make you dinner as an apology for that kunai? Knowing Mizuki, that man probably has you living on instant noodles or something just as awful."

While that was a true statement on Tsubaki's part, instant noodles wasn't that horrific. Perhaps it was a little higher in carbohydrates than what he was used to, but what it lacked in nutritional value, it made up with its taste.

"Well, I'll never say no to free food," Nine said at last, "What are you gonna make?"

"Whatever I could make with what's left in Mizuki's fridge," Tsubaki said lightly. "Can you set the table? For three, please."

_Three?_ They would be sharing the meal with Mizuki? Nine's lips thinned as he did as he was told, setting aside three spoons and three pairs of chopsticks on the table. Sharing _anything _with the Hokage's supposed spy was not preferable; perhaps he could fake an illness to be excused early after Mizuki confirmed Tsubaki's story.

Fortunately (or not), Tsubaki had barely laid out a myriad of vegetables on the kitchen sink when the door swung open and Touji Mizuki walked in.

Tsubaki turned away from the food, her face brightening at the sight of the man. "Mizuki, you're just on time! I'm was about to make some food for us."

Nine merely gave a shrug when Mizuki's eyes swung over to him in barely concealed irritation. "You know that's not necessary, Tsubaki. Especially not when Naruto-kun badgered you into it."

So Tsubaki was telling the truth about her status as Mizuki's lover then. That was both good to know and slightly off-putting; he did not take satisfaction in overworking Seven, but good information was as deadly (and often more useful) than the strongest of jutsus. If Tsubaki was to become another constant presence around him, then Nine needed her background and capabilities checked. He did not consider this as paranoia as he considered as simple precaution — after all, death by negligence and ignorance was neither preferable nor beneficial to Konoha.

"Naruto-kun didn't badger me into anything," Tsubaki said with a fond roll of the eyes. She gave Mizuki's arm a pat when they circled around her waist. Nine merely continued to watch, both fascinated and disappointed at the blatant show of attachment (which were transient) and affection (which was unnecessary to a proper shinobi). "I'm the one that offered, you know."

"I'm going to go change," Nine said and paid the two Chuunins no mind when his announcement went ignored.

Scooping up his bag from the ground, Nine turned and walked down the hallway into his room. He shut the door and went about setting aside his Academy gear (a simple long-sleeved black shirt and a fitted version of the usual shinobi pants) to pull on a looser outfit. Settling cross-legged on his bed, back against the wall adjacent to the window of the room, Nine went about his daily routine of checking his weapons — their durability and sharpness, weight and balance. This was one of the few acts in which Nine liked to take his time for the sheer numbness of mind that it tended to grant. It made it easier for him to silence his ever-buzzing mind (which was making him realize that it'd been some time since he'd undertaken the isolation room) and allow him to enter into a meditative state.

In three days, the monthly assessments would be held. The day was noteworthy for two reasons: it was the date of his assignment (_crush Uchiha Sasuke_) as well as to mark the end of his first month at the Academy.

Ah. It'd already been a month out in the whole of Konoha. It hadn't been altogether an unpleasant experience, but if this was the exemplary tone of his long-term mission, then boredom would be quick to settle. Patience was a skill (not a virtue) that ROOT expected of its agents, but Nine also knew that boredom was a human affliction, sometimes existing out of one's sphere of control. He would have to ease it where he could.

He put the weapons away. Putting Uchiha Sasuke in his place would be a way to start.

When Nine finally emerged from his room, distant voices of a conversation drifted toward him.

"—like an ANBU," a hushed female voice was murmuring. "It was kind of frightening."

"You were probably just caught off guard," Touji Mizuki's voice gently argued back, "You're weak against children, Tsubaki. I know you are. Uzumaki Naruto is barely a mediocre student at the Academy, you know; there's no way that he could have done what you said. It must've be some kind of fluke."

Talking about him, were they? He should have known better than to accept Tsubaki's nonchalant acceptance of his attempt at her life (not that she knew it to be as such).

"Anyway, you should leave," Mizuki continued, "Nevermind this dinner, it's getting late. I'll come see you tomorrow, alright?"

There were further murmurs of conversation, but Nine paid them no heed, standing with his back against the wall of the hallway as he waited for Tsubaki's departure. He'd read in a book that romantic couples had a way to bid each other goodbyes in a normal society, and Nine had no desire to be a voyeur in such embarrassingly emotional displays. It only communicated weakness to him, compounding the ineptitude that he saw in Konoha's general population as a whole.

This month spent outside the cocoon of ROOT gave Nine an understanding as to why Danzo(-sama) desired to change this village. Left like this, Konoha would weaken to the point where it would collapse under a single assault from another village, much less a second attack by Uchiha Madara. And so it begged the question: could this village survive that long for another ten to fifteen years for Nine to complete his mission?

Nine allowed the thought only brief sanctuary in his mind before silencing it swiftly. It wasn't his place to worry over the global precautions of his assignments; all he had to do was _accomplish_ them. ROOT had upheld Konoha's peace from the shadows for this long; it could handle another decade or so, and ROOT did not fail.

He strolled out to the living room area when he heard the telltale sign of Tsubaki's departure in the form of a closing door, moving past Mizuki for the pantry for a cup ramen. There was a rustle from Mizuki's direction, but Nine paid it no heed; mutual disregard was the general pattern of their interaction, and so it was reasonable to expect that tonight would be conducted in a similar fashion, his assault against Tsubaki or not. After all, Mizuki had expressed disbelief over Tsubaki's recollection of the incident and Nine knew that a sentiment that had already expressed out-loud was hard to later contradict by the same person. It was simple psychology, really.

All he had to endure was several minutes of silent scrutiny — an experience that went largely unnoticed by the larger whole of Nine's attention.

Tomorrow, Nine thought as he waited for the water to finish boiling, he should buy a meal with vegetables. He was preparing for an assignment, after all.

* * *

><p>The prevailing opinion was that the head of the Uchiha spoiled his firstborn and ignored his second. Like many of the rumours regarding the Uchiha Clan, this was untrue.<p>

Uchiha Fugaku was proud of _both_ of his sons. Certainly, Itachi was a type of prodigy that a clan could only hope to produce once every one hundred years, but Sasuke was a talented child by his own merit. Little angered Fugaku to a greater degree than the misconception that his second son was somehow inferior to his first, that he would love Sasuke any less because of how brightly Itachi shined. By the same token, little made him sadder than the knowledge that Sasuke _himself_ believed himself to be inferior, to be somehow unworthy of his parents' love and acknowledgment due to the lack of genius talent, and that he would never amount to anything great.

It was absolute nonsense.

Of course, Fugaku understood as to _how_ Sasuke could feel substandard and talentless. Itachi's shadow was far too great an obstacle for even an average Jounin could overcome; for a child of Sasuke's age, it was nearly impossible.

When Mikoto had first relayed Sasuke's distress, worded and spoken by the boy himself, Fugaku had grieved. It had been then that he had decided that it was absolutely necessary for Sasuke to be encouraged to grow into his capabilities as an autonomous entity rather than trying to become the second coming of Uchiha Itachi. To that end, Fugaku had taken it upon himself to attend the Academy's end-of-month assessments at least once every three months, if only for a chance to praise the boy.

But if Fugaku had to be honest, he would have to admit that he did not particularly enjoy being present at the assessments. In fact, if this hadn't been necessary in help improving Sasuke's self-esteem, Fugaku would not have ever bothered to attend. These assessments were incredibly political charged; a little too much for even Fugaku's tastes. But it couldn't be helped, he supposed, not when the children of various clans were pitted against each other in a free-style tournament.

It was a small comfort that making such public appearances was no longer as trying as it used to be, however. Fugaku was grateful for it. It'd taken the more than half a decade, but Fugaku no longer received raised eyebrows and taunting remarks (such as the standard: _oh, has the Uchiha decided to grace us with his presence for once?_) when he attended social and political events.

Ever since the Nine-Tails' attack of eleven years ago, the Uchiha had worked tirelessly to change their public image, slowly easing themselves out of their self-induced social isolation. They had both fought and suffered with the singular purpose of building bridges between their clan and others, making allies that would help attest to the Uchiha's innocence if they were ever targeted by mass suspicion again. They had incorporated themselves into the whole of Konoha, becoming an integral part of the village as they had always meant to be.

And Sasuke was the proof that the Uchiha were changing. Fugaku's son had become close friends with an Aburame and an Inuzuka to such a degree that the friendships had somehow catalyzed the formation of a bizarre alliance between the three clans over the years. Sasuke was even on polite speaking terms with the heir to the Hyuuga's Main House. These accomplishments alone would have filled Fugaku with pride; these were accomplishments that Itachi was incapable of bringing about, as isolated in his genius as Itachi tended to be. But of course, Sasuke had even more to offer: the boy had consistently placed first in the Academy rankings since he had been eight. And the boy thought of himself as undeserving of Fugaku's acknowledgment?

Again, nonsense.

"Fugaku," Aburame Shibi greeted him when Fugaku came within hearing distance.

"Good morning," Fugaku returned cordially.

That was the extent of their verbal interaction, but the silence between them was not uncomfortable. Fugaku enjoyed the quiet, and it was oddly pleasing that he could share a companionable silence with someone outside of his clan.

_I supposed I've also changed,_ Fugaku thought. It wasn't a bad thing.

The moment stretched on for another five minutes before Shibi seemed to find the imperative to speak again: "Shino had shoulder dislocated by another student during taijutsu practice a couple weeks back. Has Sasuke spoken to you about it?"

"Not in detail," Fugaku admitted.

Shibi turned his eyes back to the field where the assessments would soon take place. "I've seen perpetrator." Shibi paused, and Fugaku waited patiently, knowing that there was more coming. "The boy looks just like the Fourth."

Fugaku's blood ran cold.

Shibi turned his head toward Fugaku, and though it was difficult to see the Aburame's expression, Fugaku suspected that the man was frowning. "Do you know him?"

"Not as an acquaintance," Fugaku said. "Simply rumours."

"From?"

_The scandal of eleven years ago_, Fugaku thought to himself. Outwardly, he said, "I put little value in rumours and enjoy making baseless conjectures even less, Shibi."

Shibi's gaze was heavy and considering, and continued on for another minute, but the man finally inclined his head in acquiescence.

The silence returned to fill the space between them soon thereafter, but it was no longer of the comfortable type. Trepidation was rolling off of Fugaku in waves, largely generated by the mixture of coiled tension and cold anxiety that gripped at the inner walls of his stomach.

The five minutes that passed between then and the moment that the first student walked out onto the field was possibly the longest that Fugaku had experienced in two decades. As usual, his eyes searched the crowd for Sasuke first. Upon finding and exchanging a look with his second son, Fugaku felt himself relax a little. He gave the slight tilt of his head downward in the Uchiha's way of communicating high expectations, and felt his spirits lift even further at the confident smile (smirk) that he received in return.

Then he saw him — Namikaze Minato's son. The bearer of the true seal of the Nine-Tails.

"His name is Uzumaki Naruto," Shibi informed him.

"Uzumaki," Fugaku parroted flatly. Not Namikaze.

"It does raise some questions," Shibi murmured.

That it did. For one, why _Uzumaki_? Any shinobi worth their Jounin rank would be able to correctly deduce the boy's lineage by his physical appearance alone. So who was Danzo trying to fool? Or was this nothing more than a red herring, meant to mislead curious minds while Danzo held another purpose in mind? It wouldn't be uncharacteristic of Danzo to pull such a tactic.

Perhaps it was smarter to figure out the reasons as to why Danzo had bothered to send the boy through the Academy system at all. It wasn't unheard of (or even uncommon) for pre-members of ROOT to receive accelerated rank placements, often going straight into ANBU. It was also curious as to how _easily_ the Fourth's boy seemed to be smiling and laughing and making easy conversation with his classmates; didn't ROOT frown upon emotional displays as a general rule?

Despite the continuous stream of questions that plagued his mind, Fugaku forced himself to focus. The presence of Uzumaki Naruto had been unexpected, but he had decided to attend this event for Sasuke's sake. He would have plenty of time to think later tonight.

These assessments could easily take the better half of the day, depending on the skill level of a particular class. Fortunately, Sasuke's class was quite polarized, with a palpable division between the talented and the lacking. Very few children fell in-between the two groups. As such, the assessments were conducted at a faster pace than normal, with the members of the latter group being quickly eliminated. This only left the battles conducted between the students of the top tier, and those were fewer in number and more interesting to watch.

There was no need to wonder which group to which Uzumaki Naruto would belong, or even how far up the boy would be on the hierarchy. As a trained member of Danzo's ROOT, Fugaku suspected that it would be more accurate to rank the blond within the members of ANBU (in terms of capability) rather than within a population of Academy students.

It was with that heavy thought in mind that Fugaku watched the inevitable match-up between Sasuke and Uzumaki Naruto in the final round, and was neither surprised nor necessarily disappointed by how poorly the battle had gone in Sasuke's favour.

Uzumaki had dealt out a strike to the solar plexus to start, followed by duck and swipe to the ankles and a swift elbow to the knee (enough to cause pain, but not to shatter any bone). Taking two steps back, Uzumaki allowed Sasuke exactly five seconds to recover and work up a sizeable fury to start throwing punches and kicks that missed Uzumaki by a hair. Then it was Uzumaki's turn on the offense again, with the blond pivoting forward as to place himself in Sasuke's face. Using the stunning effect that close proximity tended to cause, Uzumaki then dealt out three successive strikes to the underside of the ribs, the collarbone, the forehead.

Then? Rinse and repeat.

Contrary to the covert pattern that Uzumaki was sustaining, when viewed as a whole, the battle wasn't _boring_. There were moments, purposefully created lapses where the two boys appeared to be evenly matched, trading blow for blow. But Fugaku knew that this was a calculated addition, designed to arouse just enough hope to discourage premature defeat from taking root in Sasuke.

_Elbow, upper thighs, one more to the knee._ Individually, these strikes were not particularly damaging in that they could not incapacitate Sasuke, especially not with how Uzumaki appeared to be mediating the strength of his blows. No, these attacks were designed to be painful, to cause an additive effect through continuous digs into Sasuke's unprotected sides, joints and pressure points with the aim to wear the boy down.

It was like watching a piranha attack in slow motion, strips of flesh torn away from the prey bit by bit.

Neither combatants spoke. The audience was likewise just as quiet, seized by both terror and awe.

After fifteen minutes of this slow and silent torture, the effects of Uzumaki Naruto's expert play around Sasuke were beginning to show, as well as revealing to Fugaku (and the rest of the crowd) the true purpose of this deliberately slow torture: Uzumaki wanted Sasuke to yield, and he was doing so by driving the boy into a corner from which Sasuke would not be able to escape. It was quickly becoming a possibility too, especially with how rapidly Sasuke's strength was waning in the face of the blond's increasingly powerful strikes. Soon, Sasuke would be barely moving at all, reduced to becoming an almost stationary target for the circling predator that was Uzumaki Naruto.

He had been expecting Sasuke to struggle and ultimately lose, but not like this. This was not a fight. This was a humiliation, planned and choreographed by a superior talent.

Fugaku bit back a snarl. He had been about to call out to the attending instructor to have them finish the match when Uzumaki Naruto suddenly stopped, tilted his head in brief consideration, and then raised a hand to say, "I yield."

No one dared to breathe for several seconds.

Sasuke's voice little more than a rasp when he recovered enough to say, "What?"

"I yield," Uzumaki Naruto said with a smile, "You know, forfeit? Give up? I lose. You're too much for me, Sasuke."

"_Don't shit with me!_" Sasuke snarled, looking like he wanted to throw a punch despite his condition.

Perhaps he may have followed through with the threat, had it not been for Fugaku's hand coming down on his shoulder to both hold him back and steady him. Staring down at Sasuke's shocked and rapidly paling expression, Fugaku said firmly, "Enough, Sasuke." When he felt the boy's shoulder sag underneath his hand, Fugaku laced the instructor with a glare. "Well? Are you not going to announce the winner or simply stand there like gaping fish?"

At the harsh reminder, the instructor wasted no time naming Sasuke as this month's winner. Predictably, no one was listening to official announcements by then. Fugaku watched as no small amount of children (largely civilian-born) crowded around Uzumaki Naruto to demand _what the hell happened _with a barely suppressed scowl. A few others simply walked off (like the Nara and Akimichi children) while a handful of others foolishly tried to approach Sasuke to congratulate him. Thankfully, before either Fugaku or Sasuke could growl at them to keep their distance, Shibi, Shino and Inuzuka Kiba formed a half-circle human wall around the Uchiha.

Fugaku was grateful.

"Take your boy home, Fugaku," Shibi said quietly, "Have his injuries looked at."

"I'm fine," Sasuke intervened stubbornly.

"Don't be stupid," Kiba snapped harshly. The unusually severe expression on the otherwise energetic Inuzuka seemed to silence Sasuke's protests with far greater efficiency than Fugaku's chastising ever could. "You look dead on your feet, man. We'll... talk it over and come up with a proper revenge plan tomorrow, alright?"

Shino did not say a word, but Fugaku did not miss how the boy's hands curled into fists on Sasuke's behalf.

With a grim nod made in Shibi's direction, Fugaku lead Sasuke away from his classmates and began marching him toward the Uchiha compound by the quiet back road. They did not speak; they didn't have to. Sasuke's entire body language was _bleeding_ shame and apologies, begging for forgiveness over his unsightly performance. Fugaku gave Sasuke's shoulder a brief, but firm, squeeze of reassurance, to tell the boy that forgiveness was unnecessary and that his father was neither angry nor disappointed at the outcome.

What he did not tell the boy was that Fugaku had _expected_ this outcome. Perhaps not the degree of humiliation that Sasuke had suffered, but he hadn't really expected the boy to win. Not because of any incompetence from Sasuke's end, but because of the _over_competence of Uzumaki Naruto.

"Wash up," Fugaku finally said when they reached their house, "And do not wallow in your mistakes. Only think about how not to make them again."

Sasuke set his jaw in a determined line. "Okay."

Fugaku turned away, and had walked away two steps before he stopped to say a few final words. "You did not yield even in the face of overwhelming odds, Sasuke. I am proud of you."

He pretended to be too busy cursing Danzo (for taking the Fourth's son, for turning the Fourth's son into _that_) to hear the sharp intake of breath and the half-bitten sobs and hisses of frustration and anger. Though Fugaku did not turn around to offer comfort, he did not walk away either, standing proud and tall as a silent pillar of support while his child pieced himself back together in the face of utter humiliation.

* * *

><p>That same night, Nine found himself sitting on the roof of Touji Mizuki's apartment, on his back with a hand cupped underneath his head to pillow it. His eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, his defenses carefully lowered as he lost himself in a meditative trance.<p>

_Crush Uchiha Sasuke_, Danzo-sama had ordered.

And with his actions, Nine had answered, _yes sir_ and had completed the mission just as he had always done.

Yet, despite that rewarding sense of a job well-done, he was finding parts of himself that was questioning this line of logic and action now that the deed had been done.

The Uchiha was not a minor clan in Konoha. Though they still carried the burden of stigma, they were rapidly growing in both popularity and influence, and if Nine were to consider the larger objective — _become Hokage_ — then gaining their loyalty would be far more profitable than to insult them to this degree, was it not?

Nine closed his eyes.

_Don't question,_ he recited in his head, _don't feel. Don't disobey. Don't fail._

ROOT was absolute. Danzo's words and philosophy had been his guiding principles ever since he could think for himself. Danzo had taken him in and raised him to be useful and needed even when he had been cast aside and forgotten by the rest of the village. Nine owed his very existence to Shimura Danzo. Or more accurately, Danzo's acknowledgment was all that he had.

_So don't question_, he recited again.

With his reservations appeased, Nine turned his thoughts to another topic: _Touji Mizuki_.

Over the month of living with the man, Nine had quickly found that his so-called guardian was a walking collection of failures and incompetence. He was quick to brag and condescend, riding on the coattails of past achievements well beyond their expiry date. He paid Nine as much attention as one would an unwanted pet, providing him with only the bare necessities for life. Not once had Nine felt the man live up to Danzo's predicted expectations as a spy, making Nine wonder — was Touji Mizuki _really _reporting to the Hokage regarding Nine (and was doing a superb job of hiding it), or was this simply a ploy to cause unnecessary paranoia in both Danzo and Nine?

... He would have to have Seven look into these suspicions in the near future.

A small, barely audible noise sounded from his left, signalling the arrival of a familiar presence. Nine exhaled softly, and then sat up in greeting.

"Four."

Two, Four, Six, and Seven. His living, breathing tools. It was only out of Danzo's unusual show of generosity and leniency that Nine was able to keep them for his exclusive use. While there existed a hierarchy within ROOT (even if it was nearly horizontally flat, there still _was_ one), it was unusual for a single asset to have direct command over one, nevertheless _four_, others.

Nine never enjoyed guessing at Danzo's reasons or thoughts (_don't question, don't disobey_), but he had given this particular topic some amount of consideration. By the end of it, he had cautiously concluded that the rationale lay behind the children's inherent uselessness without Nine serving as their core. Two was an exception, but as he had been raised to provide long-distance support, he was just as dependent on Nine as the other three. Seven was useless in battle, and thus required a battle-efficient commander. Six's medical techniques were extremely limited, specialized largely in emergency first-aid (or, more specifically, keeping Nine _alive _while the Nine-Tails' chakra healed him). And Four—

_Nine-sama_, Four signed at him, sinking to a knee by Nine's side.

_Drop the -sama_, Nine signed back. _Nine is not my name._

Four paused, and then gave a low bow. _As you wish._

Typical of a shinobi of civilian-birth, Four possessed a below-average chakra capacity, but she had developed her chakra control to the point of helping her overcome her genetic disadvantage. Still, that couldn't completely negate her deficiency, which translated into reality that she would never have enough chakra to cast any jutsus above the rank of E (and a few D's) efficiently in battle. But as Nine used her to either set up an 'accident' for his targets or to carry out standard assassinations when the target was a civilian or low-level shinobi, it didn't matter. Her stealth rank was third only to Seven and Nine, and her accuracy rate with projectiles was set at a rather impressive ninety-three percent. Along with her prowess with poisons and the fact that she had torn out her own vocal chords to prevent herself from betraying Nine if she were ever interrogated, she was an effective enough of an asset.

Four gave a slight tilt of her head, and queried: _were you resting?_

"Yes," Nine said, and then dismissed her apologies with a single wave of the hand. "What is it?"

Reaching into her back pocket, Four drew out a small storage scroll. _This is from Seven._

Nine accepted the storage scroll, most likely holding several heavy folders worth of information, and held it in both hands while his elbows braced themselves against his knees. "Did he mention having trouble getting any of it?"

_No_, she signed.

"Good."

She gave him a considering look. _You look tired. Did the assessments go poorly?_

Nine gave a single shake of the head. "No. Everything was completed successfully."

Everything _had_ gone smoothly. Perhaps not everything had gone according to the initial plan, but the whole thing had been a success nonetheless (his reservations aside).

The original plan had to be force Uchiha Sasuke to yield. But the boy had been stubborn, staying upright and on his feet by sheer willpower alone. Nine had considered knocking him unconscious or throwing him out of the sparring ring, but had quickly discarded those options; allowing the Uchiha to experience a proper defeat would not be to _crush _him but to simply _beat _him, and that had not been his orders. So Nine had forfeited as soon as he had felt that his point had been made (_that he was stronger, that ROOT was superior_). Given the explosive response that had soon followed thereafter, he had considered the mission objective to have been suitably met.

Dislocating Aburame Shino's shoulder had drawn him a passable amount of attention. As he had told Two a week ago, it had also created something of a rift between him and his classmates, but those relations had been long-since repaired. As long as fear was not being regularly reinforced, awe and curiosity would always trump fear in the minds of children. If dislocating a single joint in the human body could have such reaching effects, then he was absolutely certain that Uchiha Sasuke's humiliation at the hands of a 'nobody' would have even greater consequences, both advantageous and not (perhaps that had been Danzo's aim — to sacrifice the Uchiha's support to gain village-wide attention).

Still, despite the successful achievement, Nine had to acknowledge that there was, perhaps, one factor that had caught him off guard. Thankfully, this was something that was inherent to himself and not to the assignment. Which only lead to one thing, of course: the Nine-Tails.

Nine didn't have trouble with the Nine-Tails. It was actually the norm that he didn't. Despite Nine's free reign over the portion of demonic chakra that bled into his own chakra coils, he had neither had to deal with the Nine-Tails' voice nor its personality over the years as Danzo had once suspected. Nine didn't know why he wasn't plagued by the demon's consciousness, but in the long run, it likely didn't matter. If the Nine-Tails hadn't spoken to him in eleven years (despite having saved his life and mended his injuries over the same time period), then it was unlikely that it would start doing so now.

Or so he had thought.

The Nine-Tails had been agitated. Deeply so. It had wanted to rip and shred Uchiha Fugaku (and his awakened Sharingan), fighting against the discipline that Nine had continued to religious guard and maintain, hissing and snarling soundless threats at the man from the back of Nine's mind, just as it had done when it had first heard the name _Uchiha Fugaku _. But Nine had managed. He always did, though he supposed that he'd been lucky that Uchiha Sasuke hadn't lived up to expectations — had Nine been fighting someone more skilled, he may not have been able to completely prevent the Nine-Tails' chakra from leaking out.

_But that hadn't happened, _Nine thought. He _hadn't _been fighting someone of a higher level so the thought was irrelevant, wasn't it? There was no point in lingering on it.

Four shifted purposefully, drawing Nine's attention back to her. _Do you have any additional work for Seven or I?_

"Have Seven meet me next week, same time and place," Nine said after brief consideration. "And I want you on standby. Stay close to this building and watch Touji Mizuki's movements."

_Is he causing you trouble? _Four signed with a frown.

"No," Nine said, "I just want him watched."

Just as Nine never questioned Danzo, Four never questioned Nine. _Yes sir._

They exchanged a few more words (confirming orders, relaying a few more smaller messages) until Nine finally dismissed Four. She gave another bow and disappeared, likely to scope out the surrounding area of the apartment building in search of an optimal spot from which she could spy on Touji Mizuki. In contrast, Nine simply tucked the scroll away into his back pocket and lay back down on the roof.

He was making ripples. He would make ripples and waves and _torrents _until Konoha acknowledged him. And with Two enrolling into his class next week, all the pieces would be set in place. The eyes of the village would soon be on him to manipulate. He would take the Hokage's position just as Danzo had commanded.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong> And this marks the official start of the Academy Arc! Some important things will be happening, so hopefully it won't feel like a simple build-up from the team assignments, etc. As you can see, Naruto/Nine will **NOT** be swinging around new jutsus everywhere simply because that's not necessary.

Reviews greatly appreciated, as usual.

Thanks for reading!


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